From Darkness Into Light
by My Kate
Summary: Sara is injured at a crime scene, forcing Grissom into turmoil after admitting his feelings for her. A very dark story, rated M due to themes and later for GSR.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Happy Summer! Glad that I finally have time to return to fanfiction (I have so many stories to catch up on!) This story has been rattling around in my brain for several months now, and I feel it is time to send it out there for review...I expect it to be several chapters long, and I will publish weekly if not sooner...cliffhangers for the first few chapters, so be prepared...my promise to keep my committment to GSR, but it will take them a while to get there...reviews are welcome, and help steer the direction of the story...this story is darker than my other work...hope you will join me for another crazy ride with our favorite CSIs... -Kathy

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The glare of his blue light cut through the darkness enveloping his way to her.

Foot slamming on the accelerator, he felt the car thrust forward in speeds almost matching his racing heartbeat.

_Sara._

Grissom tried to still his worry, tried to focus on the off-road path that led deep into the thicket, tried to remove those words from his memory – replaying in a cacophony of voices:

_Brass' insistence that he "get here ASAP…and Gil…it's - Sara…" _

_His inner voice interrupting any further understanding as his turmoil took charge of his senses… _

_His actual voice barking at his friend for more information, "Tell me! Jim! What's happened to Sara? WHAT HAPPENED TO SARA!?" _

His frustration mounted as Brass must have moved away from his location, causing the transmission to become static in seconds.

_My Sara._

_God, let her be alright._

Grissom shook with emotion, his dust trail almost enveloping the Denali as he turned off into a hollow that was decorated with the multicolored hues of flashers on the parked police vehicles and an ambulance.

Almost forgetting to come to a full stop before attempting to jam the stick shift into park, the dashboard lights screamed and the transmission groaned its disapproval, causing Gil to undo his action and wait the interminably-long added seconds before the car was prepared for shut-off.

Racing down the grassy terrain, Gil was at Brass' side within seconds, placing his arm decisively on the older man's shoulder to twist him into view.

"Where is she?" he gasped, slightly winded but his voice tight with anxiety.

Before Brass could respond, they were distracted by the sounds of Nick's protests from the ambulance bay.

"No! Don't worry about this! Get in there! _DO SOMETHING_! God…SARA!"

Grissom reached the open doors first, wincing as he saw Nick fighting with the paramedic who was trying to stabilize his leg, the suspected fracture obvious due to the awkward positioning of his ankle at rest.

"Nick!" Grissom yelled over the fray. There was instant silence.

Nick leaned back against the small pillow on the gurney. He made no attempts to hide his tears.

Glancing at the grateful EMT, the man continued to swiftly immobilize Nick's lower leg as the injured CSI just kept repeating, "Sara…god, Sara…I'm…sorry…"

"Nick!" Grissom tried again, as he hoisted himself up into the ambulance bay, squatting uncomfortably in the cramped space opposite the working paramedic.

"Nick, you're hurt…lie still and let them help you."

As an afterthought, Grissom lay his hand on Nick's wrist as his anger began to build that someone would hurt this talented young man anyone would be proud to call Son.

The medic worked quickly, lest the interim cooperation end as quickly as it began.

He injected a mild sedative to the IV line, and Grissom watched as seconds later the effects were becoming noticeable as Nick breathed a bit deeper and his shoulders seemed to relax a bit.

"Nick," Grissom began and smiled slightly as his coworker's head shifted to meet Gil's questioning eyes.

"Nick, _where_ is Sara? What _happened_ to her?" Grissom asked gently, all the while that the pounding of his anxious heart was almost audible in the close quarters of the ambulance.

Tears began to flow again, as Nick's agitation returned.

"We never saw him, Griss! I was just closing up my kit, and she was standing by the window…" Nick's voice trembled as he gulped, the pain of the events evident in his trembling lips.

"I turned to collect the samples, and I saw this shadow…I saw it just before I heard Sara scream-" Nick stopped, clenching his eyes closed as his emotions overwhelming him.

"Nick! _What. About. Sara_?" Grissom demanded, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead.

Nick was crying now.

"I called for her, and turned to see what was happening…that's when I felt my leg get kicked out from under me…I grabbed my leg in pain just as I fell to the floor…even then, I twisted my head around, calling for her again and again…but she was gone from the room!"

"Relax, Nick…just try to relax," the paramedic tried to calm him, his eyes worriedly scanning the blood pressure readout.

"Easy, Nick," Grissom spoke as he rubbed the area around Nick's lower arm.

"Take it _easy_?! Griss, whoever did this to me has Sara. I heard her moaning from the other room downstairs…it made me sick to know she was being hurt and I couldn't get to her –" Nick had to stop, beginning to hyperventilate as his guilt became harder to bear.

"Nick-" Gil began, but the injured man just continued to ramble.

"She's in there with some madman…he's going to _hurt_ her Griss…I must have passed out or something…I almost remember this smell, sickly sweet –"

"Chloroform?" Gil suggested quickly, but Nick was losing his concentration too quickly now to be a reliable witness.

"He's got her…I don't know why he let me go…I don't know why he would ever want to hurt her…Sara…_Sa...ra!_" Nick's words began to slur at the end, until finally the medication placed him in a light sleep.

"He'll rest now," the paramedic offered at the concern in Gil's eyes.

"Where are you taking him?" Grissom asked softly, the images from Nick's account swimming around his head painfully.

"Desert Palms," was the quick reply, and Grissom noted that his presence in the ambulance was delaying their departure.

With one last look at Nick, Grissom nodded to the EMT and hopped down from the vehicle, helping to secure the doors before he stood watching it leave the scene.

The next moment, Gil found himself running back to the command station where Brass was ending a call.

"What are you doing to get Sara out of there?" Grissom demanded, bent on going in there himself if he had to.

"SWAT is two minutes out, so we sit and wait," Brass answered, clearly unhappy with the situation.

Swallowing a retort, Grissom pulled a deep breath, and then tried unsuccessfully to mask his anger demanding, "How did this happen? Wasn't the scene secure? Where was the officer on watch?"

Brass steamed, "Apparently, there was not a full search of the house as the officer felt there was no indication it had been inhabited.

When Sara and Nick arrived, the officer –" Brass chewed his lip, obviously trying to calm himself before continuing, "the officer took it upon himself to go back to the squad car to make dinner arrangements for his girlfriend's birthday tomorrow night."

Gil's reaction was no surprise.

But the quiet tone of his response made the seasoned detective's hair stand on edge.

"Where. Is. He."

Pulling himself face-to-face with Grissom, Brass smiled and said softly, "Whoa, cowboy. I've got that scene covered."

Gil was not to be put off.

"I mean it, Jim. I want to see him."

Brass shook his head again, using his standard good-guy routine to try to diffuse the situation.

"No can do, buddy. Listen, concentrate on helping Sara here, okay Gil? She's the one who needs our attention now. We'll deal with this loser later, what do you say?"

Although Gil's anger was off the scale, he couldn't disagree with Brass on this point.

Sighing deeply in an effort to maintain control, he looked at the small two-story vacation home which had seen better days.

"How long?" Gil asked, worriedly.

"About a half hour since I got here, and about fifteen minutes since we've heard any sounds."

"Why not just storm in?" Grissom asked, knowing that tactic was always a last resort in a hostage situation, but feeling the need for someone to do something.

"Gil-" Brass spoke on an inhale before continuing, "can you see that clearing over there?"

Glancing past the side yard, Grissom could see the remnants of what looked like a small bonfire which had engulfed a detached garage, and now was just about burning itself out.

"That's what greeted us when we arrived," the detective spoke with angry emotion.

Grissom turned in shock, "Incendiary device?"

Brass shrugged, "Homemade fire bomb, most likely."

Gil didn't like the sound of that.

They had been working on several unsolved arsons in the last two months, each one credited to being started with a homemade fire bomb, each bomb of increasing sophistication.

"He could blow them sky high! Jim-" Grissom spoke more urgently, "we have to get Sara out of there!"

Brass blew out through pursed lips.

"Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I want nothing better than to go down there and break the damn door down?

You weren't here when we found Nick after we arrived. Thank God he was unconscious at the time!

The guy had opened the door and dumped his body in a heap, and had kicked him down the steps like a soccer ball!

His leg is definitely broken in at least two places…we're dealing with a sadistic hardass here, Gil, and-"

Brass turned away from Gil and stepped forward to compose himself.

Grissom wouldn't be dissuaded.

He swung Brass around to face him before barking, "What else, Jim? What else do you know?"

"The first officer on the scene was sure he heard a woman screaming as he first got out of the car, but then there was only silence…Gil," he added in a softer tone, "I haven't heard anything from Sara since I've been here."

Grissom's features hardened as his head whipped towards the house.

"I'm going down there. I am not just going to stand around and wait here while Sara may be-"

"You aren't going anywhere, pal. I mean it. I'll put you in handcuffs in a cruiser if I have to!" Brass insisted, knowing what Gil was capable of.

Placing a restraining hand on his friend's shoulder, Brass tried to calm them both.

"Gil, listen, she's going to need you when we get her out of there," Brass spoke wisely, hoping to garner Gil's attention. "Don't do anything stupid."

At this, Grissom lost his composure altogether. With tears glistening in his eyes, he turned to face Brass.

"That's my problem, Jim. I don't _ever _do anything stupid.

All these years. I _didn't_ do anything stupid.

Me. Gil Grissom. Mr. Follow The Rules. Mr. Play It Safe."

Brass' eyes widened at this unguarded side of Grissom now on display before him.

_And did this "confession" _really _admit what I _think_ he's trying to say?_

Gil scoffed, shaking his head sadly.

"I told Lurie I couldn't do it. I couldn't just come out and tell her-" Gil struggled to keep the strangled sob from being released, "- that _she_ is the most important person in the world to me."

His foot kicked at imaginary stones as he continued, lowering his gaze, and his tone until it was barely audible.

"I love her…and I've never told her."

Brass remained quiet. He knew Gil had feelings for Sara that he had kept to himself for years.

But he never expected Grissom would ever admit them to himself, let alone share his pain with another person.

"And now…it may just be too late." Gil sighed at those words, reminiscent of the end of a conversation he and Sara had a very long time ago.

The rustle of uniforms in the clearing signaled the arrival of the SWAT team.

Brass' walkie-talkie crackled as the lead officer signaled for instructions.

"Get in position. Wait for my signal."

"What are you going to do?" Grissom asked worriedly.

"They're going to call for the perp to bring Sara out within five minutes, or face us coming in," Brass said in manner so matter-of-fact that it made Grissom cringe.

Suddenly, a bullhorn sounded from the wooded area near the house, demanding the release of the hostage.

Within another minute, the call was repeated with only four minutes left.

Brass' brow scrunched as there still remained no response from the crime scene.

Worried displayed itself across his brow as Gil's sole focus remained on the wooded area behind the house as the three minute call was sounded.

That focus was replaced a minute later as two figures emerged into the shadows inside the house near the first floor windows.

Grissom's heart sank as he saw a large man in a ski mask holding Sara roughly around the neck, her arms pinned behind her.

Seeing the man holding his hostage before him, Brass muttered, "Oh, no," at the sight of a partially disrobed Sara through the binoculars he used to get more detail from this crime scene.

Even without the use of binoculars, Grissom's eyes were sharp enough to see Sara's shirt hanging in shreds from her upper body, to his trained eye their position negating the presence of undergarments.

Seething, Brass' hand was all that was stopping Gil from tearing down there and beating this maniac to within an inch of his life.

_He had hurt her. _

_That maniac had hurt my Sara. _

Recalling what little Sara had shared about her childhood, Gil panicked about the effect this event must be having on her emotional stability.

Grabbing the binoculars, Gil adjusted them for maximum intensity on Sara's face.

Using his knowledge of previous crime scenes, Gil began to take inventory.

Her lovely hair was unruly, and falling suspiciously over her damp forehead. _Was that perspiration, or was it – blood?_

Her porcelain face was slightly swollen, one side almost markedly so. _Had she been slapped with a hard object? Perhaps the side of a pistol?_

Her eyes looked distant, almost unseeing. _Had she been drugged? Had she simply retreated to an internal hiding place, to stop from having to deal with the new horror?_

Before he could consider any further, the SWAT commander was giving the "last chance" speech.

That's when he saw it.

From his vantage point, Gil grabbed the binoculars in time to see the masked man pulling a clear bottle from his jacket pocket.

To his horror, all Gil could do was watch in disbelief as the kidnapper moved away from the SWAT team's vantage point and quickly doused himself thoroughly with the liquid.

Gil watched Sara squirm as the man clutched her closer to himself, pouring the liquid over the edges of her shirt hanging in messy ribbons on the front of her body, all without the SWAT team realizing what had been happening.

Instantly upon calling Brass' name in alarm and before Gil could alert him to what he had seen, there was a volley of gunshots that ripped through the back of the house.

Hitting their target, the suspect burst into bright flames and fell to the ground, releasing Sara as he rolled across the hardwood surface while his screams filled the night air.

Gil watched in horror as Sara's clothing instantly ignited due to her close proximity to her assailant.

Her own cries began echoing through the stillness as she dropped from view to the floor, hands still bound behind her as she rolled in agony in an attempt to squelch the flames.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed for the first chapter…so glad you are on board for this story….I will post as chapters are completed…it's so warm here that sleep is hard to come by – the perfect setting for posting another chapter…hope this pleases…thanks for all who read and especially those who review… you are terrific!...more as soon as its done… -Kathy

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Without thought, without plan, and without permission, Gil found himself tearing down the slight embankment at breakneck speed.

Within seconds, he reached the landing, scaled the three front porch stairs in a single bound, and found himself shoulder-crashing through the unlocked front door.

The sight before him sent his stomach dropping as he raced towards Sara who was painfully trying to roll back and forth to extinguish the flames consuming her tattered blouse.

"Sara!" Gil shrieked as he practically lay on top of her to press her more firmly into the unkempt carpet below her bruised body.

Yelping in pain from the pressure of his body as the flames continued lapping at her torso, Sara writhed under Gil who was having trouble putting out the flame.

He moved off her, angered that the stubborn flames continued to flare across the length of darkening fabric.

One second, he tried ripping the garment from her, but the stitching held fast.

The next second, he spied a heavily stained drop cloth on a nearby chair and stretched his arms to breaking before his fingertips finally connected with the treated cotton.

However, rather than help, the moment the material touched the torched blouse, both Sara and the drop cloth reignited with a force that momentarily stunned Gil until he could do nothing but watch in horror at the consequence of his action.

"Oh, lord – _SARA!_," Grissom screamed, yanking the offending cloth from her body and tossing it near the window.

Screaming in agony now, Sara tried to roll again. This time, Gil tore off his own shirt so swiftly that the buttons catapulted into the next room.

He wrapped Sara's upper body in his shirt and rolled her expertly until the fire that had all but consumed her shirt was finally out.

The acrid smell of burning flesh attacked his nostrils as the kidnapper's body crumbled onto itself as he lay nearby, a corpse in bony embers.

Peering down, Gil was speechless as he hovered over Sara's moaning form in shock, unable to do more than just stare down at the bloody blistering body of the only woman who had ever captured his heart.

Outside, Brass cursed loudly as he had watched Gil enter the house not three minutes ago.

As soon as he realized there was no stopping Grissom's escape, Brass was barking into his walkie-talkie for the SWAT team to stand down.

Once he received the all clear a moment later, he was on Grissom's trail, slowing slightly to alert the paramedics to follow.

That is how Jim found himself leading the pack of medics and police into the room where Grissom had entered not two full minutes before, and now was just removing his scorched shirt from Sara's body.

Moving to his side, Brass said quietly, "Gil. Let the paramedics help her."

Grissom moved only slightly to the side, needing Brass's full weight to pull him to stand and move back.

His chest heaving, Gil could not take his eyes off Sara.

His gaze filled with horror as he watched the paramedics cut away the material from Sara's shoulders, the only area which was not burned directly onto her skin.

Using the "Rule of 9's", the EMTs estimated that Sara had sustained third degree burns over eighteen percent of her body, primarily on the inside of her arms, across the back of each hand, and most prominently across her trunk.

Looking at the ugly blisters forming across the exposed left side of her long neck, Gil felt it was possible for him to see the exact path of destruction the flames had traveled.

_Flames he himself had reignited by wrapping that drop cloth around her badly injured body._

He hated what that maniac had done to her.

Glancing over at the charred remains, his hatred spilled over.

The bastard was gone, and Gil cursed inwardly that he wouldn't have the satisfaction of ending that life by his own hands.

Yet…Grissom was faced with living with the fact that he himself shouldered some of the blame for causing the flames to reignite and add to the extent of Sara's current injuries.

_Oh, Sara…I'm so sorry…_

Somewhere outside his internal misery, he was aware of Jim's voice addressing him.

"Gil," Brass spoke a bit emotionally, "they're taking her to Desert Palms – burn unit. Let's go. We'll meet her there."

Reluctantly, almost on autopilot, Gil nodded and followed Jim to his cruiser before settling in the front seat almost moved to tears.

Nothing was said between the two men as they chased the ambulance through the rocky terrain, down the two lane road, out onto the open highway, and back through the city limits.

It wasn't until they were near the hospital that Brass spoke.

"When we get inside, we're going to get you checked out while they work on Sara."

Gil nodded absently, before his brow creased and he shook his head.

"What? Why?" he said softly, his eyes never fully leaving the pattern of flashing lights in the vehicle directly ahead of them.

Reaching over, Brass touched Gil's left arm. The action caused a pain-filled outburst from Grissom.

Looking down, Gil's entire lower arm was singed and blistered.

Returning his eyes to Sara's ambulance, Gil spoke evenly, "There was a dropcloth. Must have been saturated with a combustible. I placed it around Sara. She started burning again. I didn't know what I had done…she just started screaming again…she…oh, god…"

Grissom buried his head in his hands and for the first time in forever, Brass was worried about the long term effect this tragedy would have on his usually stoic friend.

At the hospital, Sara was whisked directly to the triage room at the burn unit.

Knowing that they would only be pacing until information was finally available, Brass made good on his plan to get medical attention for Gil.

The doctor was speaking to him directly as he lay back motionless on the small gurney in the ER room but Gil was having trouble focusing.

_The fire was almost out. I made her clothes catch on fire again. She was screaming. _

_Oh god, Sara…I'm so sorry…I never meant to hurt you…_

Concerned, the doctor was shining a light into Grissom's eyes while speaking now to Brass, who stood by equally concerned.

"He's showing signs of shock. Are these the only injuries you noticed?" the physician spoke quickly, not wanting to handle his injured patient more than necessary at the moment.

"Isn't that enough?" the detective breathed sarcastically, and the doctor frowned but kept his tongue.

The physician leaned forward into Gil's line of vision, not sure if the patient was emotionally able to understand what he was about to say.

"Mr. Grissom? Listen to my voice. I am going to clean and treat the burns on your left arm. I want to start an IV and give you something for pain. Do you understand?"

Gil just nodded, his memories melding with his current situation and compounded by his worry for Sara.

_Sara…It really _is _too late now…I finally know what I want – no – what I _need_ to do about _this_…but…oh, Sara… how could you ever want to be with me after what I've done to you?..._

Although the doctor began the onerous task of cleansing Gil's first degree burns, the medication coupled with the shock his body was dealing with caused him to relax and fall slowly into the black void of his emotional pain.

_But I deserve it for how I hurt her…what did Sara ever do to deserve this?_

It was almost an hour later as the doctor left his patient.

Despite the medication, his arm hurt like hell.

Brass was surprised at how much better Gil's arm looked when it was properly cleaned and dressed.

He wished his concern about his friend's emotional state was as easily relieved.

Brass saw the grief consuming his friend, and wondered how to approach him in this state.

Gil was silent as he lay motionless on the hospital bed, totally unaware that Jim was there to watch over him.

_Sara…How can I ask you to forgive me…when I will never forgive myself?_

He was losing touch with the sensations surrounding him as the medication's full effects began their task of numbing his physical pain.

Sinking slowly into a calming darkness, Gil was focused on a final thought.

_I'm so sorry, Sara…_

Due to the mild sedative, Grissom was now in twilight sleep which caused Brass to ask the doctor about admittance.

"Well, with the current admittance numbers, it would probably be better if he rested here for a few hours and then went home to recuperate. He would need someone with him for the night, especially to continue his pain medication on schedule."

Brass nodded and thought to call Catherine when the doctor left.

"Also, CSI Stokes and CSI Sidle…any chance I could get a condition report?" the detective asked in business tone, even though his inquiry was highly personal in nature.

"Sure thing, just let me get this one comfortable and I will see what I can do."

As Grissom slept, Brass learned that Nick was asleep, resting comfortably with a double fracture of his left leg, and would be confined to the hospital for two additional days of observation and rest.

Sara's news was not as promising.

The doctors had sedated her fully, having cleared away the burnt clothing from her shoulders, chest, upper arms, and neck area. Her wounds were cleaned, medicated, and dressed.

She would be permanently disfigured from the left side of her long neck to her flat stomach, including the inner side of both her thin, lanky arms.

While skin grafts on her upper chest and breasts might be considered at a later time, Sara's pale skin would bear the marks of her ordeal for the rest of her life.

For now, she rested in a drug-induced coma that would last for several days while her body tried to begin the slow process of healing.

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Much later that same night, as a tired Gil was being escorted home, Brass held nothing back as he answered the barrage of questions concerning Sara's condition.

Having taken the prescribed dosage, Gil was propped up with extra pillows in an attempt to get comfortable enough for restorative sleep.

But his heart lay shattered by the unending assault of his guilty conscience.

In the darkened bedroom, a tear now escaped Grissom's sad eyes as he closed both his saddened blue orbs and replayed the visions of his beautiful Sara through the windmills of his mind.

_Sara sending him her gap-toothed smile at the annual softball tournament as she was expertly swinging a bat, _

_Sara looking up at him with that radiant smile as she found the last piece of evidence to break the case, _

_Sara wearing only a CSI vest and shorts as she trudged out after pulling a double shift, standing in his office doorways tiredly smiling goodbye as she stepped into a hot Vegas summer day… _

His face hardened.

And now, those memories were all he would have left of the carefree days for his beautiful Sara.

Now…Sara would have to learn to deal with skin grafts, hospital stays, and scars for the rest of her days.

To him, she would always be beautiful.

But knowing how hard Sara was on herself, this was going to be the beginning of some very difficult days for her.

And then there would be the aftershocks of the brutality she had been subjected to at the hands of that maniac.

Had she called for help?

Had she called out for him?

The memories of her bound wrists sent shivers down his spine.

_If that bastard wasn't already dead, I'd kill him with my bare hands…_

Tears continued to run unbidden down his cheeks as Gil now lay alone with only the sound of his heart breaking for her pain as he rested in the quiet of his townhouse bedroom.

Catherine stood sentry in his living room, taking the time to snoop around and get to know the "real" Gil Grissom before lounging on his couch and closing her eyes in a caretaker's level of sleep.

Lying alone in her hospital room bed, still unconscious from the heavy sedation, for now Sara lay oblivious to the aftermath of her ordeal.

Lying alone in his townhouse bed, Gil Grissom wished he could share in her dreamless sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: This chapter is short and far from sweet…your reviews are so amazing and I thank you for the encouragement to continue…all those who support this story by reading are very appreciated…the story continues to unfold…next chapter as soon as possible…-Kathy

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In the three weeks Sara had been recuperated in the hospital, most of the CSI lab personnel had stopped by or sent remembrances.

But Sara had refused to see any of them.

Instead, she argued with her doctors and finally prevailed after insisting on a posting of a No Visitors sign.

Sara also had raised a few eyebrows when she instructed the nursing staff to distribute any and all of her delivered flowers, candy, and balloons to elderly patients on the floor.

_I've seen the monster I've become…there's no way they can feel anything but disgust for the poor little rape victim…_

Her control was slipping, but she swatted the tears angrily as she squeezed her eyes shut and willed the pooling liquid back behind her emotional dam.

_I know they're just sending those things out of some sense of…pity…_

The mere suggestion of her coworkers eyeing her with misguided sympathy threw Sara back in time to her days in foster care.

She had survived that nightmare by reining in her emotions, relying solely on her focus to achieve academically with the goal to rise above the low expectations that her peers and teachers held for "the girl whose father was stabbed to death".

For hours, she continued to sit unmoving in her hospital bed in a room with a door that was kept shut and curtains that were kept drawn despite the protests of the floor nurses who finally gave in to calm her agitation which began to border on hysteria.

Closed off to the sights and sounds of life just out of her reach, Sara continued to spiral downwards towards the depths of despair.

_All I've ever wanted was to find somewhere I belonged, to stop being on the outside looking in._

She turned her head painfully to avoid the shadows racing past the crack that formed where door met floor, reminding her that out there lives were moving forward – without her.

A mirthless chuckle freed itself from its depths.

_Without me…and here I am…alone again…_

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Even when Brass one day had infiltrated the blockade by flashing his credentials, Sara had merely closed her eyes and pulled the covers painfully over herself to hide from view.

At first he had refused to accept her silence, going on and on about how they were all worried about her, and how he wished she'd reconsider and let some of the graveyard shift come just for a bit to check on her.

Silence loomed at his request, and Brass sighed softly, worriedly resigned to the fact that she just wasn't ready yet.

Moving to pat her reassuringly on the upper arm, she let out a muffled cry of pain which caused him to wince before saying a quick goodbye and make a hasty retreat.

On this way out, he first stopped at the nurses' station, flashing his badge while imploring them to check on her _right now._

While he waited to be sure she had received some attention and perhaps some pain medication, Brass cursed himself for adding to her pain.

He stayed propped up against the tiled walls of the corridor as he watched the flurry of activity calm after a few moments.

Seeing his distress, the floor nurse paused before him to assure him that she had called for help to change Sara's dressings before adding a dose of morphine to her IV to help with the pain.

The nurse's parting comment made his heart ache: "That woman certainly has a high tolerance for pain."

With each step that led him out of the hospital, Jim could not shake the feeling that her tolerance had been developing over a very long time…

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As the medication began to take effect, Sara now lay still just looking out the window, which the night nurse had opened despite her patient's protests, as her vision now focused on the solitary star visible through the sketchy nighttime haze above the city.

She recalled the many nights over her long years in Vegas when she had wished upon that same star.

Back then, Sara had wished that Gil Grissom would someday open up his eyes enough to really see how he was everything she ever needed.

Before her attack, Sara continued to hang onto the hope that he might fall in love with her, and banish the aching loneliness of her solitary life.

Now, Sara turned away and closed her eyes tightly, shielding them from viewing the celestial body.

Now, there was not longer hope for that happy ending someday with Gil.

She had loved him almost from the first time she had spoken to him.

Infatuated, at first, to be sure. But….then, no….there had always been something _deeper _between them.

_And now…he will never want me…a scarred and sorry excuse for a woman…_

The doctors had worked to repair the scarring and tears that had occurred during the attack.

The bruising would heal in time, but the doctors were less than optimistic about the scarring around the entrance and along the outside area surrounding her labia.

The stitching would prevent normal hair growth, leaving Sara no alternative but to keep the entire area closely shaved.

Her sorrow surfaced as she realized that deformity would forever disgust any would-be lover.

_Once again…I am a victim…always a victim…_

Her thoughts were becoming disjointed, as the effects of the medication only added to her emotional distress.

_They will suggest counseling…like _that_ will help._

Her lips snarled as voices from her past swirled with images of condescending professionals in state-run facilities sitting in their tidy offices always glancing at the clock.

_Work through the pain, Sara!_

_Fight for the life you want, Sara! _

_You control your destiny, Sara!_

She rolled slightly as her pain was easing and sleep was mercifully on the brink.

_Control my destiny? I control _nothing_._

Inwardly, Sara now cursed the knowledge she has gained through her years of involvement as a CSI.

Her experiences with victims now told her the truth about the rest of her days.

_I will get minimum satisfaction through the courts…hell, the bastard killed himself…_

_and truth be told, I can see now that he knew _exactly _what he was doing…_

_he ignited my clothing in such a fashion as to insure he burned me just enough to scar me for life, but still allow me to live…my life over, but heart and brain still functioning…_

_The walking dead…_

_And what would I say to a victim such as myself if I were counseling them…_

A wry smile tried to cross her face as the low tide of sleep washed over her in the dark silence of her hospital room.

_Where there's life, there's hope…ha!_

Anger began to weave a defensive shield around her heart.

_Well then…I can only hope to find a palm reader who will tell me I have a _very short_ life line…_

Her body felt like it was falling, but her conscious mind fought for more time to work through this current situation even as her thoughts grew more restless in the confusion the drugs were creating.

_It would be better to have a short life, than a lonely one…_

_I am tired of having no one to touch, and no one to touch me…_

_And now…no one will ever want to touch me…_

Her eyelids refused to stay open; her pulse was racing as she fought against the effects of the sedative.

_I only ever wanted him to love me…_

The medication was a stronger opponent.

_He'll never love me now…now that I am…hideous…deformed…_

Just as she lost the battle for sleep, a final plea from her subconscious slipped through her defenses.

_Gil…_

--------

He had tried to stay away.

During the last three weeks, Gil had been forced to take some medical leave as his own bandaged burns healed.

On his first trek back to the lab to retrieve some medical paperwork from the Human Resources office, Grissom kept his head down in hopes of avoiding having to speak to anyone.

His movement was on autopilot as the walls around him seemed to close in on him.

_The last night I walked these halls was to hand out assignments._

_I sent them out together._

_I sent her with Nick._

_I sent her._

_I did this to her…_

Gil shook his head twice to silence his conscience.

Moving ahead, he was struck silent as he overheard one lab tech murmur to another right after he passed their station.

"…hero…"

Gil's steps halted immediately after he had suddenly turned and ducked around the corner to an empty corridor, every fiber of his being gasping for air.

In the cool shadows of this side hallway, Grissom pressed his back against the cool tiles covering the walls as he fought back tears.

"_Hero?_

_Is _that_ what everyone thinks?_

_Didn't Brass tell them?_

_Don't they know?_

_Don't they understand?_

_I'm no hero!_

I_ hurt her…_I_ caused the flames to return…she was _screaming_!"_

Gil's heart was pounding in his chest.

Here in the light of day, his body was being wracked by the mental images of Sara's anguish that flooded his nightmares and played havoc with his attempts at sleep since the night of her attack.

His hands flew to his ears in a vain attempt to halt the echoes of her screams.

Gil didn't know how to make them stop.

He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

His guilt tainted his memories of that encounter, eating away at his emotional stability.

Long moments later, his attempts to focus on something other than her body writhing in agony finally succeeded.

With a long drawn out breath, Gil's hands now lay limp at his side.

Slowly, he raised his weary hands to scrub them gruffly over his face, his bandage scrubbing harshly against his beard.

Pushing off the wall with the last of his strength, Gil began the onerous trek towards his destination.

He didn't want to be here.

He wanted to be with Sara.

But…she would never want him now…

Exhausted, Gil hoped he could get the paperwork and just get back home quickly.

But fate wasn't done with him yet.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: This chapter is being posted tonight as a special birthday treat to KandaYuu Lover 21. Happy Birthday, and I have a feeling this will leave you with a birthday smile! ...thanks for the wonderful reviews and reader support...more as soon as possible...all mistakes are mine... you are all so terrific!...- Kathy

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"Hello, Gil."

A flirtatious tone with an undercurrent of breathless anticipation.

Without fully turning towards the person who had addressed him, "Terri Miller."

Having now fully entered the Human Resources office, Grissom turned fully to find Terri Miller standing from her seat along the citation decorated wall.

Sauntering towards him with a bit more swing in her hips than the situation required, this blonde beauty was now placing her featherlike touch on his forearm before exhaling, "It's so good to see you again."

In his current state, Gil continued to just stare at this old love interest as if she were a mirage.

Not allowing a single wrinkle to penetrate her brow, Terri increased the pressure of her grip as she asked, "Gil? Are you alright?"

He wanted to scream.

_If one more person asked him that…_

However, she couldn't know the turmoil he was embroiled in.

She most likely didn't even know Sara other than by reputation.

She certainly didn't know how devastated he was because of the injuries Sara had sustained.

…._because of what I did…because she was hurt because of me…_

Gil's anxiety had been building over his convalescence, irrationally second guessing his actions until he as he now chastised himself for assigning her with Nick to cover that case in the first place.

So when Terri spoke a second time, her concern growing for his lack of expected emotion upon seeing her after all this time, Gil numbly answered, "I'm fine."

_I'm fine. _

_What _she_ always says._

_What if Sara has been carrying _this_ type of heartache around all those times I've asked? _

_I'm drowning. _

_I don't know if I can bear much more of these feelings._

_Is this what Sara felt like, forever just quietly turning away - after I rejected her as she reached out to me again and again - to deal with things – alone?_

_And I would just watch her go…_

_I won't let that happen ever again!_

_If she gives me another chance…_

_Please let her give me another chance…_

_I don't think I can do this anymore…alone…_

Now, Terri had placed both hands on Gil's shoulders.

"Gil?" she asked softly, trying to get his focus on her.

"Gil, do you need to sit down?" she asked, trying to lead him towards the spot she had been sitting.

"NO!" Gil said forcefully, softening his tone immediately as he now looked into her startled expression.

"No," he countered less firmly, backing out of her touch.

"No, I don't need that," he said on an exhale, moving towards the still-opened door.

Confused, Terri stood there watching him as he backed away from her until the open hallway gave him room to breathe.

"Not _that_," he repeated to himself distractedly as suddenly his feet moved forward like a man on a mission.

_I need Sara…_

_-----------_

Painful redressing of her bandages now completed, the nurse was about to add some pain medication to Sara's IV drip when there was a rather loud knock on her door.

Sara became momentarily distracted from her pain when she looked up and saw Grissom standing in the doorway.

The nurse looked at Sara with some surprise, glancing up at the figure and back at her patient as she noted emotions in her eyes that had been absent throughout her dealing with this woman over the last few weeks.

The patient had requested _No Visitors_.

Yet the nurse could see plainly now that there was something softer in her patient's eyes, although a passerby might have missed it if they didn't stop to concentrate.

"Is it a bad time?" Grissom choked out, wondering what had made him think Sara would allow a visit from him since she had refused the rest of the team.

"I was just leaving," the nurse said to whomever was listening as she checked the drip one more time and turned to shuffle quietly out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

Realizing that Grissom was staring at her with eyes alight with blue intensity, suddenly Sara felt unworthy of his gaze.

She pulled the covers up under her chin and tried to hide the rest of her body from his view.

_Hideous…_

Gil moved closer and pulled a chair up to the bed.

"I- I'm sorry I haven't been by to visit you since-" his words failed him as he mentally kicked himself for his cowardice.

"Since I caught on fire and became scarred for the rest of my life," Sara finished his sentence, not fully realizing that this was the first time she had admitted aloud the agony that she had kept bottled up from the others.

"You'll always be beautiful to me," Grissom said, another statement that was made in the room without conscious thought.

Sara grimaced. _If only I thought that could be true._

"Nice of you to say, Grissom…but really," she inhaled deeply, "I'm okay with it. I know."

She looked him directly in the eye. "I know. So there's no use pretending."

Gil moved his arm in an attempt to place his hand on hers. That's when she saw it.

Eyes widened anxiously, Sara gaze caused his heart to drop.

"Grissom?! What happened to you?"

She winced as her chest protested the bodily turn she attempted.

"Griss…are you alright? Please…tell me what happened!"

_Tell her what happened? And have her hate me for what I did to her?_

But he was hard pressed to deny her anything, especially when she looked so distraught.

He tried an evasive maneuver.

"Just some scratches, working on a case, trying to save – some evidence."_ There…not a complete lie._

Sara would not be dissuaded.

"Tell me. Please."

Gil looked into her eyes for a long moment before beginning.

"You really don't remember?"

He could see her eyes turning over the events leading up to the fire. But her mind had blocked out most of those images.

So Sara shook her head, and Gil felt his heart sink.

After a moment, "Please…Griss…"

He couldn't look at her. Moving slowly from his seat, Sara watched as he paced to the window.

Looking out at the cool rain pelting the large glass panes, he told her everything.

When he finished, he hung his head and barely could speak, "I'm so sorry, Sara."

After a second, he realized she hadn't responded.

Taking a chance, he glanced towards the bed and his heart sank.

He could see her shoulders shaking in silent sobs, and he wanted nothing more than to rush to her, to hold her, to tell her everything would be alright.

Except…he couldn't, he wouldn't, and nothing would never be alright again.

Still, after a moment, Grissom walked slowly over and sat down on the side of her bed.

"Sara?" Gil moved his bandaged hands to rest over her knee. "I am _so _sorry."

Sara raised her watery eyes, allowing the tears that she had refused to fall during these last painful weeks, and now she just sat staring at his hands.

"How can you do that?" Sara asked him, her eyes burning a hole through his bandages.

"Sorry," he said, removing his hand as if he had been slapped.

She quickly regrouped and instinctively reached out to touch him, only to wheel back as pain seared through her upper body.

"Honey!" Gil acted swiftly, moving to help her return to the debatable comfort of her pillowed headrest.

They were so close, he could have kissed her. And the sad part was, he really wanted to.

Instead, he pulled back afraid of making the situation worse.

"How can you do that?" Sara asked him again, this time with more conviction.

He looked baffled for a moment, first at her comment and then at her odd behavior.

Refusing to look him in the eye, Sara twisted her head to stare at the medication dripping into the tubing leading to her bandaged hand.

"How can you be here, being so wonderful, when I-" her voice cracked, but she continued shakily, "when I am the reason you have suffered like this!"

Gil snapped his head to glare at her downcast eyes, his brows furrowed.

He knew he hadn't slept well since that night, and he knew that he was probably not focusing clearly, but…did she think _he_ should be upset with _her_?

"Sara…" Gil began in his supervisor tone, and she turned immediately towards him.

She could see _that _look, the one he donned when he was trying to solve a puzzle.

Sara always gave him some time to wrestle with the evidence, and he usually could come up with the answer that suited him.

Looking her directly in the eye, Gil stated, "Sara…how can _you _ever forgive _me_ for hurting you like that? If I hadn't grabbed that cloth, if your clothes hadn't ignited a second time…"

"Gil! Stop it!" Sara winced again as she tried to sit up closer to him, causing them both to forget she had addressed him by his first name.

"If you hadn't been there, I'd be dead for sure!

If you hadn't done what you'd done, I would be burned over 90 percent of my body!

If you …hadn't been there-"

She couldn't continue.

Her bravado was depleted, and her body shook with the memories of her kidnapping.

"I was so scared," she said in the smallest voice, causing Grissom to react instinctively instead of thinking of the politically correct thing to do and say.

"Oh, god, Sara, so was I…" Gil's voice rushed out as he moved forward, placing his cheek next to hers.

"If something had happened to you-" was all he could say before his own tears began to fall.

They sat there like that for some time, Sara's injuries preventing more than this minimal contact.

And yet, they both felt they had never been closer.

Walls had disintegrated in that hospital room. And these two lonely souls would never be the same again.

For Sara, however, baring her soul left her feeling somewhat defenseless.

And there were those she would encounter soon who would use that vulnerability to their advantage.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: The plot is moving forward…your terrific reviews and reader support are very encouraging, and I thank everyone for their comments and ideas…as I never tire of saying, you are just so terrific…please overlook any stretches of medical or scientific facts for the sake of plot development in this story…hope this pleases…next update will take a few days as I will be away again for a short time, and also want to work on the wedding chapter for my other story…all mistakes are mine…more as soon as possible… -Kathy

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Grissom returned to work the next week, much to the relief of Catherine and the rest of his crew.

His hopes for an easy transition for his first night back were dashed by the knock of the door from a messenger advising him of an urgent meeting in the Sheriff's office.

Unable to formulate a reason to refuse, Gil marched slowly towards the meeting site, recalling the last night he had worked a shift.

_The night Sara's world changed forever._

Grissom was surprised to find the Sheriff's office empty, wheeling around as he heard the secretary call his name.

"Dr. Grissom. They're waiting for you in the conference room."

A small smile and a few footsteps later, Gil opened the door to the meeting room.

His first visual sweep of the round table caused his eyebrow to rise in surprise.

Seated alongside the Sheriff was Conrad, Brass, Sofia, and…Terri Miller.

"Sorry I'm late," was all he could breathe out as he tried to examine the evidence before him to uncover the thread that would connect these players.

"Gil, come in, come in," the Sheriff spoke with a tired smile that didn't meet his eyes.

Seating himself quickly in the only open seat available, Sofia moved forward in her chair and placed her hand on his forearm.

"Welcome back," she whispered as she sent him a full wattage smile.

Twisting her upper body slightly in a motion that caused more than a slight silhouette of cleavage, she added quietly, "You've been missed."

Grissom turned his attention away from Sofia without responding, but it took a few added seconds before she removed her hand.

As his eyes swept towards the Sheriff who had begun speaking again, Gil was surprised to find a slight scowl on Terri's perfectly made up countenance.

Slightly oblivious to the attraction these two blondes had towards him, Grissom totally missed the underpinnings of a knockdown, drag out catfight.

Instead, his mind was totally focused on the reason for this meeting as soon as he heard the words "arsonist" leave the Sheriff's mouth.

"…and the violence added to the arson showed he was escalating.

Our crime scene analysis was focused on CSI Sidle's attack.

We were certain the perp who died in that conflagration at the scene had acted alone; by Stoke's own account, he had only seen one attacker.

But yesterday as the scene was finally being cleared away, some new evidence was uncovered."

At that, the Sheriff clicked some keys on his laptop, and images jumped to life across the Smartboard.

All the investigators in the room leaned forward, their minds racing to input and interpret what their eyes were focusing on.

"As you can see, the garage was totally destroyed. The area behind the building had been burnt and scorched due to the high temperatures of the combustibles stored inside.

Now, here," the Sheriff continued knowing he had their full attention, "is what Conrad's team uncovered as they were overseeing the crime scene cleanup.

I'm hopeful you will understand why I found interesting."

Ecklie adjusted himself a bit higher in his seat, pride evident in the fact that his team had, for once, bested the graveyard shift by uncovering this information, although it was the night crew's Sofia, Warrick, and Catherine who had pulled a triple when days clocked out to avoid overtime.

_For Sara and Nick_ they had insisted to the Sheriff, who relented and let them work the case.

As the Sheriff clicked buttons to zoom in for a close up, it was evident to every pair of these trained eyes that the information was important – and alarming.

As the fire had begun with an explosion of planted chemicals inside the structure, the heat consumed the wooden frame from the inside out.

The flames had been so intense that a large area of smaller trees surrounding the garage had ignited from their proximity to the fire.

However, the older larger oak trees scattered behind the front line of those trees suffered mainly heat damage but remained intact for the most part.

The group continued to stare at the evidence on the screen for a moment, but it was finally Grissom who made the connection.

"Shadows," he said quietly.

His observation brought disbelieving consensus to his colleagues.

To clarify, he stood and walked over to the Smartboard, outlining with the stylus the edges of the less scorched area on the largest oak tree.

Sofia sat back, scoffing lightly as she stared down the Sheriff.

"You've got to be kidding me! You can't possibly believe we can glean any information from…from _this_!"

When she received a silent response for her incredulity, she continued.

"These two areas look like _blobs_…if you would have us believe these shadows are identifiable as human, I fail to see how we'd prove that.

Looking at the rough edges and position of the shadows, I fail to see how you could identify _anything_ here as _human_."

The Sheriff looked anxious, chewing the inside of his lip for a moment before turning to Grissom for reassurance that Ecklie's team had not raised his hopes in vain.

With the media clamoring for information, he was going to need something positive before his next media event.

"Grissom?"

Gil's eyes remained on the screen before he turned to Terri Miller.

Their eyes locked for a moment before she smiled at him with a quick nod.

This action was not lost on Sofia who sat back fuming at what she saw as an inappropriate action in this conference setting.

But Grissom was already refocused on the images.

"It's a known fact that when light passes near objects, it bends so that you can never get a shadow that has rigid edges, much like this evidence shows.

Even if the flames were concentrated on this one point only, the edges would never be crisp."

Gil turned back to consider the image before him.

"However, I believe that with a little computer—generated skills we might clean up this image enough to have our visiting anthropologist take a stab at gleaning some important physical details about the arsonists."

"Wait!…what are you saying, Grissom? That you believe there are _two_ human figures whose images are heat-photographed onto the wide bark of this old tree?" Ecklie was asking now, almost unwilling to take the speculative leap.

Grissom answered with a silent nod, the implications of such an admission churning his stomach.

"If indeed these shadows were made by something was standing in front of these older trees, they would essentially have been blocking the heat rays from evenly burning the edges of the bark-"

"-and the uneven burn would cause a light shadow to form…" finished Brass, impressed again at Grissom's gift for logical conclusions as he followed the evidence.

Ecklie's head nodded softly as he contemplated the possibility of this working theory.

"Did we find the suspect's vehicle?" Gil asked, as his agitation was increasing.

He cursed himself for being distracted with Sara and not fully overseeing the case.

Ecklie looked towards Sofia who had been listed as primary from graveyard on this investigation.

She leaned forward to answer as if Gil had spoken solely to her.

"There was no vehicle found anywhere on the compound. Coroner is still working on identifying the body."

The Sheriff sighed and sat down heavily into his seat.

The possibility of an accomplice still on the loose meant that Sara might still be in danger.

The thought made Gil's pulse rise, as he quickly sat down in an effort to remain calm.

Sofia continued her conversation with Grissom.

"Perhaps the suspect was a vagrant, moved from town to town on foot, had no need for a car, choosing what he needed as he traveled on foot…we've seen this before…"

Gil looked around to gauge the other's acceptance of Sofia's argument.

Sofia sat back and offered Grissom a smiling, "Good theory, though!" as once again she found it imperative to speak to him in low tones while leaning towards him with her hand on his forearm.

The others looked at Grissom as they waited for him to discuss the ramifications of these findings.

But Gil just sat for a long moment in silence, his heart rate was accelerating as his mind was flooding with images of Sara as he'd seen her bound figure through the binoculars, writhing on the floor, unconscious in the ambulance, lying so still in her hospital bed…

_I came so close to losing her…_

The implications of proving this hypothesis held possibly dire consequences for Sara's safety.

_What if the attack wasn't random? _

_What if the attacker chose her on purpose? _

_Why didn't the perp take Nick also?_

_If the attack was planned and if he wasn't working alone…_

Closing his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose, Gil attempted to regain control of his sudden need to break his self-imposed boycott from visiting Sara.

_Sara…I need to see you, to hold you, and to know for certain that you're safe._

His heartbeat pounded in his ears as he stood and spoke in a decisive tone.

"The dead guy wasn't working alone."

----------------------

In the ten days since Grissom's visit, Sara had the first set of skin grafts to the least injured areas of her upper arms.

Due to the location of the burns, surgeons could only work on small patches on the upper arms for this surgery, one on each side of her body.

The prognosis after the first surgery was painful to endure.

She had remained so still the doctor had closed the door and sat at her bedside to be sure she understood the situation.

Knowing she'd be alone for only a few moments, Sara tried to interpret all that the doctor had told her.

Instead, she watched her hand fan out slightly on top of her blanketed form, in memory of that day he visited.

A small smile graced her lips at the images that played back again and again in her mind, and once again her thoughts focused on Grissom.

_Though it saddened him, Gil had agreed to abide by Sara's wishes to be left alone while she was in the hospital._

_He had debated forcefully with her, but in the end conceded that if she felt she wasn't ready to have visitors he would not force himself on her._

_Sara was at once relieved by his understanding yet missing him already as he had prepared to leave that night._

_He had not visited her in person since they had shared that intimate moment in her hospital room almost ten days ago. _

_They had spoken everyday, however, and she had been moved by his subsequent actions. _

_He had arranged for a private duty nurse to begin an extended split shift that very next day to attend to her smallest needs. _

_He listened to her protests, but he had argued that the floor nurses were wonderful yet overtaxed, and that he'd sleep better knowing there was someone to pay close attention to her smallest needs while she was so incapacitated._

_He had asked her to "humor an old man" and was pleased to hear the slight chuckle that rewarded him for his concern._

_When she expressed her trepidation over having a stranger hovering around her throughout the afternoon and evening, Gil had promised to consult Al and conduct the interviews personally._

_And that is how Jillian Genava, R.N. became the private duty nurse assigned to Sara's care._

_Though Sara liked to think of herself as independent, she would easily come to view Jillian as a godsend. _

_Her easy manner and friendly professionalism put Sara at ease from almost the moment she strolled in wearing a nursing smock with smiling spiders on it._

'_If she wore that for her interview, I can so understand why Gil insisted she was the only one for the job,' Sara had chuckled to herself, ignoring Jillian's raised brow as she silently questioned the reason for her patient's smile._

_About Sara's age, she was friendly, understanding, and so professional that many times her patient's needs were addressed before she was able to express them – a fact that Sara found particularly comforting and nurturing at this time when some TLC was really welcomed. _

_Jillian was scheduled to continue her employ for an unspecified length of time._

_Sara was surprised to know that included service even after she was discharged, and for perhaps the first time in her life Sara found herself starting to enjoy having someone like Grissom sincerely interested in taking care of her. _

The surgeon had disclosed that depending on the outcome of this first surgery, over the next year Sara could look forward to some additional plastic surgery attempts at grafting her arms from the wrists up to her armpits.

Recovering from this first surgery, however, had been difficult for Sara as she had not tolerated the anesthesia well, and the initial healing days were painful.

But Jillian had been there like a true advocate, soothing her pain with medication and TLC, although Grissom's phone calls each evening may have actually been the best medicine.

Those minutes, that had stretched from a quick 'How are you?' to calls lasting over an hour, had turned into what Gil called "their special time".

After the first night, Jillian would answer the phone, and then discreetly leave the room with the door slightly ajar as she took a quick coffee break which coincidentally seemed to last as long as Sara was engrossed in her phone conversation.

Gil was always totally focused on Sara during their phone calls, and almost instantly they became the highlight of Sara's difficult hospital days.

Without them to look forward to, surely she would have drawn in the mental barriers around herself, perhaps never to fully emerge from the horrors of her ordeal.

This night, however, just having left the conference room, Gil glanced at his watch and hurried to his office for their nightly chat before evening phone service was restricted as per hospital policy.

Almost immediately, Sara felt his conversation was a bit distracted, almost evasive when she pointed out he seemed upset about something.

Gil's anxiety over her safety, his need to protect her overcoming his logic, caused the argument that now seemed to set back any progress he had made in furthering their relationship these last few weeks.

For the first night since she was hired, Gil insisted on knowing exactly what Jillian was doing, and more importantly where she was doing it.

Despite the fact that Sara was happy for Jillian to take a break so she'd have some private time to talk to Gil, he seemed angry when she answered his query with the fact that her nurse had left the room to give her some privacy.

Puzzled by his attitude, she questioned him in true Sidle fashion, but Gil would only admit that he was just stressed as this first night back was a bit more intense than he had expected.

Sara admonished him for trying to do too much too soon, reminding him that he needed to calm down a bit and take it a bit easy.

His passion to protect her, compounded by his frustration at not having a handle on this latest perceived threat against her safety, made him see red at her comment.

_Take it _easy_?_

_She may be in grave danger, and she wants me _to relax_?_

Gil reacted angrily, for all he could see was that she wasn't taking this new threat seriously, although rationally he should have recalled that he had not made her aware either of the new evidence or the theory of the new threat to her safety.

His muttered comment was rude, slightly profane - and _definitely_ not well received.

The not-so-subtle click of the receiver caused him to slam his cell phone shut and toss it across the room where it landed unceremoniously on the overstuffed sofa.

As he sat forward at this desk, Gil held his hands over his eyes, pressing them harshly to prevent the angry tears from forming.

_Just great, Gilbert…_

But across town in a darkened hospital room, one lonely figure was allowing her own tears to run freely…


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thanks for the great support of this story…I love reading your thoughtful reviews…this chapter moves us ahead in the story with a bit of a cliffhanger at the end…more as soon as possible (still working on the wedding chapter for the other story)…hope this pleases all you terrific readers out there…all mistakes are mine…-Kathy

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"You shouldn't let her get to you like that, you know," came a soft voice that startled Gil out of his thoughts.

A frown appeared on his face although he didn't know if it was due to the intrusion on his personal space, or the fact that this person felt she somehow had a right to comment on Sara like that.

Eyeing her warily, Gil continued to sit silently as the door clicked softly behind this woman who was now subtly moving forward like a cat stalking its prey.

"She really needs to know she can't treat you like that," continued the voice which was dripping with intimacy.

His heart rate was rising as he pictured Sara lying in her hospital bed, looking so wounded.

_And thanks to me, her pain is not solely from her ordeal at the crime scene._

Gil rubbed his eyes fully with both hands covering his face, trying in vain to remove the images of a fragile Sara suffering in the pain he had caused by his careless comments.

Suddenly, his movements stilled as he looked up startled to find Terri's hand stilling his movements.

"You really need to do something about Sofia, Gil," she cooed softly, never letting her hand move from his.

_Sofia?_

His head cleared as he realized Terri had not known about his phone call to Sara, but was instead referring to the meeting they had just attended.

Twisting in his chair, he effectively blocked any further contact as he leaned over his desk and picked up a case file.

Momentarily awed by his subtle rejection of his advances, Terri quickly recovered and moved to take a seat across from his position.

Crossing her legs a bit suggestively, her smile was bright as she leaned forward to try to refocus his attention on her.

Terri Miller had often wondered why Grissom had not pursued her further after their last encounter when she had played hard-to-get.

No matter. She definitely was not one to give up so easily.

Gil tried to get his mind off Sara for the moment, and used his curiosity on the subject to do just that.

"Why are you here, Terri?"

Surprise ran through her features, but was quickly replaced by her full wattage smile.

"I was there, Gil…in the Sheriff's meeting…Sofia's challenges to you-"

"Are none of your concern. My staff. I'll deal with them as I see fit," Gil interrupted, his tone brokering no further discussion of the topic.

Terri sat back looking slightly amused.

"Such loyalty," she mocked him, "do _all_ your CSIs always rate such a high level of protective support?"

_No. Only Sara, and look at what a mess I've made of _that_ situation._

Gil's thoughts became distracted once again, causing Terri's brow to furrow just a bit as she tried to make sense out his uncharacteristic dismissive behavior.

In her experience, Gil Grissom was the most focused man on the planet. Yet this was the second encounter they had recently in which he seemed strangely distant, preoccupied.

In the brief second before Gil would apologize and attempt to join in a brief conversation, Terri Miller's eyebrow shot up in smug satisfaction as she came to what she felt was the only logical explanation.

_He's completely thrown off-balance by being in my presence!_

_I still have that effect on him…he still wants to be with me…_

Her smile turned genuine as Gil shook his head and mumbled his apologies for being curt, finishing with the thought that he "just had a lot on my mind right now".

_He's too adorable…a few days and I'll have him eating out of my hand…_

Gil was getting more and more anxious for his company to vacate that chair; his need to see if Sara was alright began to consume him.

Clearing his throat, he stumbled for the most subtle way to suggest Terri should leave until he remembered he hadn't gotten an answer for his original question.

He shook his head lightly and tried again as he leaned forward on the desk, shifting his weight to rest onto his forearms.

"Terri, why are you _here_…in Vegas?"

She flashed a perfectly whitened set of teeth, and started to relate her tale.

"The last time I was here on a case, I left to go back to the university to work with the Anthropology Department."

Gil pulled his body backwards from his desk in perfect timing to Terri's forward leaning in towards him.

"I was never happy about the way we left each other that night, Gil."

_I believe it was you who left, Terri, even before I finished my phone call from the scene._

Keeping those thoughts to himself, however, he looked down at his desk calendar nodding his head in understanding.

Terri continued to talk on about her subsequent studies in Psychology, and how she had gained enough experience working with law enforcement on cases that required both her renowned skills as a forensic artist which now were coupled with her new interest in criminal profiling.

"Getting into the head of the perpetrator…figuring out what makes him tick…to get out ahead of him and anticipate his next move."

Terri continued to ramble on, touting her own accomplishments, making herself a celebrity in her own mind.

But Grissom was only making the appearance of paying rapt attention.

In truth, he was recalling the incidents that led to his being called away from their last attempt at dinner in that intimate airport lounge.

_I had turned off the phone, and turned to find Terri's seat empty._

_I remember feeling downcast, examining the evidence and concluding that I would spend the rest of my life without another person to care about me…without another person to love…and who would love me…the real me…_

_I drove to the scene on autopilot. Parking the old Denali I used to drive, I tried in vain to slough off the tiredness that comes from a despairing encounter._

_I had turned towards the scene which had become alight with emergency beacons cordoning off the scene._

_And then I saw her._

_Coming towards me as a perfectly molded shadow, her features indistinct, but her hair glimmering with the soft sheen of backlighting._

_And I knew it was her._

_Sara._

_Smiling at me with eyes that revealed more than I expect she knew._

_Greeting me with a sincerity that touched me in places I had thought long dead._

_Trying so hard not to look too young, which was impossible for the exuberance and intensity she put into her work all but shouted the vigor of youth._

_Wanting so hard to earn my attention for her work and her effort...willing to take any recognition from me, even if it often sounded paternalistic._

_Never ceasing to give me opportunities to break out from the walls I had created to protect, and still today protect myself…my heart. _

_So eager to share, eager to learn, eager…to teach._

_And you did teach me, Sara._

_Taught me the truth about loyalty…devotion…caring…_

_Loving._

_My Sara._

Terri Miller stopped in the middle of her ramble as Gil stood unexpectedly and moved towards his door.

If she was a betting woman, she might have thought he had forgotten she was even in the room.

"Gil-" she spoke, a bit confused.

Her speech stopped him cold in his tracks, his hand just reaching for the knob when a knock came to the door.

Thankful for a rational reason to cover his irrational behavior, he immediately pulled open the door to discover Sofia standing on the other side.

Gil glanced back towards Terri, missing Sofia's jaw clench before her glare sent to the woman in the chair was replaced with a sickening sweet smile directed towards Grissom.

Without invitation, Sofia walked into the office, brushing a bit closer than necessary to her oblivious supervisor.

"Am I…interrupting something?" she cooed softly, stepping closer to Grissom to exude an air of familiarity which was not lost on the fuming Terri.

"No!…ah, no…" Gil repeated a bit softer, causing Terri to smirk haughtily towards Sofia.

"Gil and I were just catching up," the visiting professional spoke cheerily, causing the on-staff criminalist to narrow her eyes dangerously at the woman before turning back to Gil.

"Well, then, you'll have to excuse us," Sofia's chin rose slightly, "Gil and _I_ have some case-related business to attend to," she finished triumphantly with a glare that drew the boundary she was just waiting for the other blonde to cross.

"The arson case?" Gil asked strongly, his attention now refocused on the case.

Sofia nodded, her back planted firmly towards Terri.

"Fiber evidence is inconclusive. Before Catherine left on vacation, she sent a request to the archives for the files from last two arson scenes, hoping the evidence from those is a match to something to link the scenes to the unknown DB we pulled from the scene."

Gil was hardly listening now as he surveyed the photos from the last arson, overwhelming him with flashbacks of Sara's injuries.

_Flames…the drop cloth…screaming…Sara was screaming…_

The more Gil tried to suppress the images, the more ragged his breathing became.

Sofia's proximity made her first to notice.

Her hand reached out to the wrist that held the case file.

"Are you…seeing something?" she asked, peering over the edge of the open manila file.

This action caused her long blonde tresses to brush against Gil's chest, and he inhaled her scent.

He was overcome by the heavy scent of Sofia's perfumed soap, lotion, and body splash.

_You don't smell like Sara! …Sara smells heavenly…of the lightest hint of vanilla… _

Gil's flashback sent the memory of acrid smoke and burning flesh to his senses.

_She was burning again!…because of me…_

His pulse rate increased as their last phone call replayed itself like a surreal episode from a bad drama.

_I am worried…my instincts point me towards an accomplice…Sara could be a target…still in danger…I have to see Sara…I have to go _now_…_

In mid-sentence, Sofia startled and stopped speaking as Gil flung the case file back towards her open hands, moving backwards to put some distance from her proximity.

Terri raised her chin slightly in a gloating gesture, which irritated Sofia.

Yet both women were surprised to hear Gil repeat his thoughts aloud as he uttered sharply, "I have to go _now_."

"Gil?" Terri asked with concern, her eyes never leaving his blank expression.

Sighing softly, Gil turned towards the two and blinked for an extra long second before opening his eyes and ordering, "Sofia – help Terri get up to speed on what we know about the arsons so far."

He failed to see the heat emanate from Sofia's glare as she snapped her head in his direction.

"And Terri, when Sofia has finished I'd like both of you to comb through that evidence from the archive vault. Perhaps with two well-trained, experienced sets of eyes reviewing the material, we might find something that will answer the questions of motive and intent."

Terri blushed on cue and lowered her head for a dramatic pause.

However, as she opened her mouth to gush over his obvious faith in her abilities, she gasped at the sight before her.

The doorway was empty.

The only sound now heard in the large office was a slight chuckle rising from Sofia at Terri's failed attempt to flirt with Grissom.

-------------

Speeding towards the hospital just a few miles away, Gil tried to regain his composure.

Surely, presenting himself like an out of control maniac was not going to gain Sara's trust in believing his misguided phone conversation was borne of his concern for her well-being.

Entering the main doors, he slipped towards the elevators almost unnoticed in the flurry of activity in the packed ER waiting room.

Once the light board signaled he had reached Sara's floor, the stark contrast to the busy lobby was remarkable.

Lowered hallway lights and an empty nurses' station put the graveyard supervisor on high alert.

Patients slept behind semi-closed doors, and only the soft sounds of IV monitors reverberated in the silence.

It was hours past the time that Sara's own nurse would be attending her.

It did not escape his notice that at this moment anyone could have almost unrestricted access to Sara's room as she lay without a means to protect herself in her current condition.

His heart pounded in his chest as he moved quickly towards her door, the sure-grip soles of his workboots making his footsteps virtually silent.

He stood outside the doorway watching her sleep.

Relief flooded his veins as his eyes provided the proof his heart demanded that she was indeed safe.

The nagging worry returned.

_Safe…but for how long?_

A sudden movement to the right side of Sara's bed caught his attention.

In the shadows that formed from the city lights outside her window, Gil watched a hand reaching out towards Sara's IV line.

A pen light provided a beam of illumination on the medication shunt, as the glint from the syringe grasped in that hand caused him to move into action.

In three strides, he clamped his hand gruffly over the wrist which supported the intruder's movements.

The pen light went crashing to the floor as the syringe also dropped unceremoniously to the hospital tiles below.

Raising the arm over their head, Gil uttered in low tones while glaring threateningly at the intruder, "Get away from her!"

Poised to deflect a potential defensive blow, his next offensive movements seized immediately when he heard Jillian's plaintive gasp, "Dr. Grissom – please!"

Years of crime scenes hardened his response.

Instead of releasing her, Gil wrapped his hands tighter around her wrist as he all but dragged the private duty nurse out into the hallway.

Once outside, he peered over his shoulder and to his relief found Sara still in a deep slumber.

Whipping his head back to a confused and frightened Jillian, Gil's face contorted angrily as he demanded, "You want to explain just what the _hell_ you were doing in there?"


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: A quick note of thanks to Grissom1 for recommending this story…I was quite honored by the nod…hope the story lives up to the impossibly high reader-satisfaction bar which all her stories have set…clues to a mystery are like bread crumbs, and some are dropped here…next chapter is almost set, so expect an update in a day or two…your reader support and thoughtful reviews are so appreciated…all mistakes are mine…hope this pleases…you remain terrific! –Kathy

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Chapter 7

Gil breathed out impatiently as he waited for Jillian to answer.

The frightened nurse steeled herself with a deep breath before beginning her explanation.

"Sara was upset earlier…the doctor had a sedative ordered in case she needed help sleeping, nights are sometimes tough after-"

"You were supposed to be off duty hours ago!" Gil snapped, eyeing the tired brunette with some irritation.

Again, Jillian took a deep breath and spoke as calmly as her shaking limbs would allow.

"Sara was off the phone by the time I returned from the nurses' station. It was obvious she was upset-"

Gil blanched at the mental picture; his reaction caused Jillian to square her shoulders as her own irritation grew.

"Actually, Dr. Grissom, I don't know exactly what happened, but Sara was _more_ than a little upset.

She said good night, but I told her no way was I going to leave until she was asleep, and I knew she was alright.

At first, she resisted, telling me again and again that she was "fine"."

_That's my Sara alright,_ Gil thought.

"She's been listless, and I believe she would still be asleep if it wasn't for the nightmare," Jillian spoke, the tone of her voice saddened by the memory.

"How bad was this one?" Gil asked quietly, the fight gone out of his tone to be replaced by the possessive inquiry of a loved one.

Jillian folded her arms across her chest as she continued, "Started with moaning and tossing which turned violent almost immediately.

If I hadn't watched her-" the nurse turned her head to compose herself, "I would have thought she was in seizure."

Gil paled at the image created by her description, it mirrored the nightmares he himself endured about Sara.

_Must have been remembering the attack-_

"Then she began shouting to _put the fire out_-" Jillian stopped and moved towards Sara's door to check on her.

"That's when she woke. She trembled violently, which I'm sure only added to the pressure on the grafts.

Certainly has a high tolerance for pain," Jillian sighed before turning fully to Gil.

"After that I called about the sedative. Floor nurse in charge just dropped off her medication about an hour ago.

I told Sara I was giving her something, but she begged me not to – saying sedatives always made her helpless against the nightmares, she couldn't wake up.

I agreed to only give her a slight amount, to help her settle.

I was worried she might have an adverse reaction, considering her concerns.

So I injected her IV with a small amount of the syringe, and I've been sitting here for the last hour watching her vitals.

She drifted off into what I feel must be a dreamless sleep, and since she was resting comfortably, I was about to inject the rest when-"

The nurse stopped talking and wheeled around towards Grissom.

"And now it's _your_ turn to talk. Just what did _you_ think you were doing in there?"

Gil opened and closed his mouth, his brain settling on just how much to relate as to the real reason for his visit, when both their heads spun around towards the frightening moan that suddenly sounded from their patient's bed.

Without thought, Gil pushed past Jillian and rushed up to Sara's bedside just as her eyes flew open and her breathing seemed labored.

"Sara?...Sara?...c'mon, honey…you're safe…you're safe…I'm here…I'll watch over you…"

Jillian watched as Sara became more aware of her surroundings; Gil's comforting was reaching her on some level.

"That's it, honey. Just breathe. I'll watch over you. You're safe now."

After a few moments of Gil's constant reassurances humming more and more softly into her ear, Sara relaxed against the pillows, giving in to the need to close her tired eyes.

His large hands held her hand that lay limp before him as he nestled into the chair near the head of her hospital bed.

Gently his grip encased her palm as if it was a most precious treasure; his fingers rubbed soothing circles over hers as he watched her return to deeper levels of much needed sleep.

Although he knew she was in deep slumber, Gil was suddenly loathed to remove himself from holding her hand, or leaving her side.

However, he did pull his one hand back and reached over to click open his cell phone.

After briefly engaging in muted conversation, he clicked it shut and put it on SILENT mode before reclaiming Sara's hand in his.

Jillian stood at the foot of the bed, gazing at Sara looking so fragile and yet showing such courage.

Lost in the moment, she wondering what was going to happen to Sara next.

His voice startled her from her thoughts as he spoke evenly, "I need to talk to you."

---------------------------

Sofia had taken all she could of Terri's company.

Lifting the box lid to start packing up her stack of evidence, she stopped at the unmistakably irritation displayed on Terri's face.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just seems like you've rushed through that pile of photos, that's all. I probably would review those a bit more closely if _I_ were looking to uncover any new evidence."

"Actually, I was on the force during the first arson investigation. It was _that_ investigation that caused me to come back to the lab where I worked on compiling a good deal of this evidence."

She continued without pause.

"Gil was short-handed… and he _needed_ me," Sofia emphasized as she kept her composure under the undeniable urge to slap this irritating blonde.

"And yet, here we are, having to review your work for the second time."

Sofia bristled, but remained silent as she slammed the lid down hard on the labeled box and headed towards the storage vault.

"Hot date?" Terri chided, loving the fact that she could easily get a rise out of her only known competition for Gil's attention.

"I need to find Grissom," Sofia all but snapped back as she locked the safe and moved to put as much distance between her and Terri as possible.

"Don't keep him too long. We made tentative plans for breakfast," Terri lied, planning to snag Grissom into resuming their past habit of leaving together for coffee after shift whenever she was in town.

Sofia's parting shot made the other blonde's head snap up, "Consider them _cancelled_."

The CSI smirked proudly as even now she felt an angry scowl follow her as she proceeded down the hall towards Gil's office.

Surprised to see he had not returned, Sofia trotted over to the break room to check the case board.

Surprise surfaced again as she noticed Grissom was not listed on a call out.

Standing there deciding what to make of it, she heard Brass passing by as he called out a brief "How's it going" to Hodges in the lab.

Turning swiftly, she caught up with Brass who smiled sarcastically as he spoke.

"Ah, the lovely Sofia…criminals stand you up tonight?"

His levity was completely lost on this focused blonde.

"I've been looking to catch up with Grissom," she breathed as she reared her head to exude the importance of her task.

_I bet you have. I've seen the way you throw yourself at him. Girl, give it up…ain't but one little filly who's gonna snag _that_ man…all he needs to do is get his head out of his-_

"So?" Sofia was almost demanding as she waited for any possible clues from Brass as to where she could find Gil _before Terri did._

"Oh, Grissom. Last I heard he was at the hospital."

Brass was enjoying the look of confusion on Sofia's face.

Nodding to make his point, Jim added, "Visiting a friend."

Although he had arrived at his intended destination, Brass couldn't leave before he saw the light of recognition go on in Sofia's eyes.

_Those eyes. It's always like looking at some microprocessor. You can always see the minute the clues add up and the lights go on…_

Like clockwork, Sofia's gaze clouded as anticipated.

Brass could not help a bit-too-innocent look before smiling broadly and waving softly as he left Sofia alone to contemplate the meaning behind Gil's late night visit.

What he failed to see was the narrowing of angry eyes as the blonde turned and stalked out of the building…

---------------------------

Twenty minutes later, as Sofia stepped back from the admissions desk where she insisted the night registrar take her credentials _very_ seriously, she made determined steps towards the elevator.

Punching in the floor code, Sofia checked out her profile in the blurry reflection of the elevator doors.

Sighing softly as the elevator moved down to the basement first, she moved over to admit a lanky nurse, unmistakably private duty, who held a small tray containing Styrofoam holders obviously holding two sandwiches and two hot drinks.

Her movements stilled as she realized her floor number was already punched.

Ever the investigator, Sofia played a hunch as she smiled towards the woman before nodding to the tray and asking, "For Grissom?"

The look of shock quickly dissipated as Jillian noticed the badge and uniform.

"I thought I'd grab something for him before I left for the night.

Sara didn't eat much for supper, I was hoping to tempt her with something from the cafeteria."

Jealousy burned throughout her veins, pumping anger and fueling Sofia's discontent.

_Even now?…Even now he runs to be with her?…How can he – she's burned and disfigured!_

"You…are Sara's private duty?" Sofia guessed needing more information.

The answering nod made the investigator in her feel smug in finding both her conclusions to be correct so far.

"Doctor Grissom hired me- oh," Jillian stopped and lowered her head, mindful of the conversation she had just concluded with Gil.

_Let's just keep this between us, for now…_

Sofia immediately pounced on her omission.

"Gil is paying you overtime? Looks like you've been here awhile," as Sofia's trained eye had noted the tip of a blue parking pass peering out of Jillian's back pocket.

She had worked enough hospital detail to know the staff lot was color coded by shifts.

Jillian just smiled and was never so grateful to finally reach Sara's floor.

This CSI made her uneasy, and the fact that she followed behind her made her increasingly alarmed.

Especially since she had noted Sofia's gun holstered to her back pocket.

Instead of returning to Sara's room, Jillian calmly entered the nurses' station.

Sofia leaned on the counter, curious as to why the woman did not immediately enter Sara's room.

She watched as the nurse calmly set down the tray before moving to the intercom and stepping in front of it so the blonde could not see the room number she depressed.

First a click, and then Jillian's voice could be heard, "This is Jillian. Could you please come to the nurses' station _right now_?"

Without waiting for a response, she reset the machine and turned back to a frowning Sofia.

"He'll be right here," she spoke, hoping her smile covered her anxiety.

A moment later, Gil appeared outside Sara's door and frowned slightly as he approached the two women.

Looking between them, he forced a smile at Jillian and asked, "Would you-?"

Jillian picked up the tray and moved towards Sara's room.

Sofia looked at Grissom, but managed to note the number of the room the nurse entered.

"So?" Gil asked a bit tiredly, wondering about the purpose of this visit.

Sofia was going out on a limb here, but she decided to press her intuition one more time this evening.

"Brass said you were visiting a friend, and I wondered if something had happened with Sara."

She moved closed as her tone lowered, and her hand reached out to touch his forearm.

"I thought _you_ might need a friend right about now."

Gil was tired and worried about Sara's safety.

Truth be known, the gesture touched him.

He trusted his team with his life, yet he had failed miserably in showing them enough trust to open up to them.

Sitting by Sara's side, he had been taking stock of his life, wondering how he could turn it around and be the person Sara needed him to be.

So instead of snapping and dismissing her offer, Gil raised tired eyes and smiled, "I'm fine."

Sofia was delighted to see the smile.

But her happiness abated when he glanced around and said, "But I really have to insist you go, Sofia."

Her look must have shown disappointment, as he quickly added, "I need someone I trust to look into these arsonists. They're escalating. I just want to get out ahead of them."

Sofia saw this as a chance to make inroads with Grissom.

"All right, Gil. I uncovered a few minor leads I want to check out.

I still can't understand why you think there was more than one responsible for-" she paused as she let her meaning sink in.

"But you _will _call me if you need _anything_," Sofia spoke confidently.

"I will. And hey, keep me posted, alright?" Gil spoke, already starting to move backwards to where his heart needed to be. "And take care of yourself, Sofia."

Blonde tresses were tossed over her shoulder as she leaned in towards him with a winning smile.

"You can _count_ on it,"

Returning to Sara's room, he spoke without taking his eyes off Sara, "Go home, Jillian. I'll watch over her."

-------------

Gil had spent the rest of that shift at the hospital, allowing Jillian time to go home and prepare for her new assignment.

In their discussions, he had shared his concerns for Sara's safety, and Jillian's worry over Sara had her accepting Grissom's offer.

Jillian would work double shifts in the hospital for the next few days and become a live-in companion for Sara until she was able to come back to work without needing help to resume her daily activities.

Gil knew there would be many surgeries scheduled in Sara's future, and he wanted to be sure she had the best care he could afford.

He also knew that if she went back to living alone before these arsonists were caught, there was an increased danger that someone might attempt to hurt her again…

----------------

His plan was to take a few nights off and stay with Sara overnight while Jillian worked longer hours to ensure their patient was never alone.

And as with all best-laid plans, the first night into his watch he received the all-hands call from dispatch.

They had been engaged in some lively banter, his smug smile eliciting her breathless laughter as one topic melded into another until they recalled a particularly humorous story of them when she first came to Vegas.

His heart sang as her chuckles continued, loving the curve of her lips as she smiled, leaning forward as if he just wanted to kiss that grin right off her face…

Instead, the vibration of his phone caught him by surprise.

His own smile dropped, replaced by a scowl.

_Do these people understand what "time off' means exactly?_

Seeing the all-hands call out, Gil glanced at Sara who had already fallen into silence, her features unreadable, her disappointment evident despite her best efforts to hide it.

Gil clicked his phone open against hospital policy and called Brass.

Sara could hear a throaty reply, and by the sounds of it this was going to be big.

She watched Gil's expression darken, but her heart sank as his eyes whipped to nail her with a glare.

"I'm not sure I can do that," were his words, but his expression spoke of his worry in leaving Sara.

She reached for his hand, mouthing, "I'll be fine."

Gil clicked shut the device, in their job _goodbye_ was saved for personal calls.

"Sara-" he began, reaching out to grasp her hand in his.

"I'll be _fine._"

"I don't want to leave you."

"Gil, don't worry about me."

And although he did worry, instead he replied, "Not worried. I just – don't want to leave you."

Sara was stunned at this admission from the workaholic seated before her.

A hush settled over the room as he tightened his grasp on her hand.

Their eyes met.

Without hesitation, Gil stood and moved towards her.

Another moment, and his lips brushed against hers.

Sara leaned back into the pillows at the touch, but Gil pursued her.

Their lips fit perfectly together.

She was soft and welcoming – can lips be shy?

He was becoming less hesitant – and more certain that he never wanted this moment to end.

Pulling back with great restraint, their foreheads met as breathing returned to normal.

Gil sat back in his seat and took her hand for a moment.

She knew he was having trouble forming his thoughts, so she waited patiently.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the chirp of his cell phone broke his concentration.

He had forgotten to return it to silent, so the chirp blasted the silence demanding his immediate attention.

Exhaling sharply, he all but barked, "Grissom!"

From the other end, he could hear the tone Sofia reserved exclusively for him.

"Gil…I think we're looking at another arson here…"


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Your response and support of this story has been really great…your thoughtful reviews help shape this story in-progress…I rushed this chapter for release today as I will be away for the long weekend without much time to write…more as soon as possible…you're all so terrific…all mistakes are mine…hope this pleases… -Kathy

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Chapter 8

Steeling herself against the flight instinct, Sara pulled open the glass door that led into the main lobby of the crime lab.

Familiar scents and sounds accosted her immediately, somehow relieving some of the doubts that she was ready for her first shift since the incident.

She smiled a bit as she stood in the entryway, inhaling deeply the unique scents of this workplace, hearing the bustle of lab techs just out of sight - feeling as if she were…_home_.

Her introspection would be short-lived as her presence was detected.

Judy grinned broadly, her excited "Welcome back!" causing a flurry of turned heads followed by similar shouts and waves.

It felt good to be here.

However, the moment Sara headed down the hall, her stomach did a somersault as her feet drew nearer and nearer to Grissom's office.

He had visited her in person almost daily since they had shared that intimate moment in her hospital room almost a week ago.

They had spent long hours together the last few nights in the hospital, as Sara tried to resume a night-shift sleep schedule in anticipation of her return to work.

Her steps slowed as a small smile formed at the memories of them talking for hours, moving from topic to topic, debating and agreeing.

But always relishing Grissom's rapt attention focused solely on _her_.

That was not to say there wasn't some tension in their hours together.

Grissom had frowned at her insistence to the doctors that she could heal as easily at home, that she was in fact even able to go back to work full time.

He kept his worry to himself, however, as he decided it would be easier to keep his eye on her at the lab than here in the open environment of the hospital.

Yet, she could see the tension in his jaw, a worried glance he tried to keep hidden, his intense attention to the doctor's directions.

Sara inhaled a ragged breath as her mind replayed the images of his parting each early morning.

Jillian would announce her arrival and take off for the nurses' stations ostensibly to check in.

But they both knew she wanted to give them a chance for a private goodbye.

As their heads turned in tandem to watch the nurse's exit, the tension level in the room always seemed to kick up several notches.

Finally, she would just turn her head and send a shy smile at him.

That Sidle smile was always his undoing.

He would increase the pressure of his grip on their entwined hands, pulling himself to his feet in the process.

She would watch every morning in the same disbelief as he hovered over her, eyes searching for permission which the gleam in her eye always granted.

His lips would take hers, always the same way.

A gentle peck, then bouncing slightly away.

A firmer press, exhaling as they moved more slowly away.

A deeper pressure, often with his hand gently winding in her hair, lasting several heartbeats.

Then, a smile as foreheads met softly.

Dual heart rates returning to normal.

Finally, "Call me…if you need _anything_…"

_You…I only need you…_

He cared for her.

But she _loved_ him.

And there was a great chasm between _caring_ for someone and _loving _them.

Her time in foster care had certainly beat that distinction into her.

It seemed like Sara spent her entire life looking for just one _someone_ to love her.

In her freshman year at college, she had breathed deeply and jumped into a romantic entanglement with a senior pre-law named Ken Fuller.

By Christmas, she was so desperate to cling onto the hope that he truly loved her as he professed each night she spent in his dormitory bed.

Even the end-of-term appearance of his parents accompanied by "the girl back home" didn't phase her – until he returned from vacation an engaged man.

He tried to speak with her after dropping that bombshell, in hopes of resuming their on-campus liaison, but Sara had already steeled herself into the "fool me twice…"-mode.

She kept her heart close after that.

So close, at times she wondered if she had one at all.

And then, she attended _that _lecture.

And she knew her heart would never be her own again.

Sara shook herself out of her reflections as she suddenly realized she had stopped directly outside Grissom's closed door.

Now, old doubts resurfaced and she stood debating on whether to knock and enter, despite having given Grissom assurances that she would do just that upon her arrival this evening.

Sara self-consciously pulled the long sleeves of her turtleneck lower over her still-reddened wrists, the ugly coloration difficult to hide even as it leaked out onto the back of her hands.

Hidden under hospital covers, she had not faced the enormity of the scarring.

Having been released just two days before, Sara had found it difficult to pull clothing from her closet that adequately covered her neck, arms, and hands.

Tugging again, she closed her eyes and reminded herself of the promise she made to check in with him before assignments in the break room.

--------------

Grissom had returned to work these last few nights after her hospital release.

He had not seen her in person since his last nightwatch at the hospital, choosing instead to phone her as he allowed her time to settle in at home.

In truth, in the silence of his townhouse he missed her…almost desperately at times.

Yet, he knew she was wary of his intentions, and reined in his desires to allow her time to deal with getting her life back to normal before asking her for another chance at a relationship he finally found himself ready to pursue.

He had decided to say all this, and more, when she returned to work.

That was why he asked her to stop in and see him when she arrived as usual in the hour before the graveyard shift began.

He wanted Sara to know he would be there for her, watching over her as he promised.

But instead, he found himself faced with the unexpected visit from Sofia.

-------------

Greg's giddy laughter floating from the breakroom brought Sara from her musing.

She glanced around the empty hallway, suddenly aware that she had just been standing here outside his door.

Hopeful she had not been spotted, she raised her hand to knock only to retract it almost instantly.

Her heart was pounding as she stood there unable to move, indecision beginning to incite a panic attack much like she had experienced in the hospital the first few days after the attack.

Her dilemma was resolved, however, when she heard the obviously cheery laugh coming from behind the closed door.

_Sofia?_

_In Grissom's office?_

The lights were on and the shades were drawn – the usual state of affairs at this hour before shift actually started, as Gil was just arriving – but the situation sparked all sorts of sordid images to bombard Sara's insecurity.

-------------

In truth, Sofia had entered uninvited as she spied Grissom entering his office early.

He had hoped to clear away his messages to have time to spend with Sara, easing her back into working, quelling his doubts that returning to work this early was a good idea after all.

As Sara had been entering the building, Gil had glanced at the clock noting that she might be arriving any minute.

He continued to search for ways to get Sofia to leave without giving away his waiting for Sara, but her insistent chatter droned on and on.

He felt helpless.

He was trapped.

And the damned clock kept ticking as precious minutes were being lost.

Little did Gil realize that his plan for spending time with Sara was not the only thing being sacrificed…

------------

When she heard the blonde's chuckle again, Sara envisioned Sofia leaning forward from her perch at the edge of Grissom's desk moving closer, closer to his leather lair, moving to pounce on his lap as her lips would meet his in a crushing blow…as he would begin to respond-

The image sucked the breath out of Sara, and she felt her back pound heavily against the cool tiled wall that bordered his office doorway.

"Hey, girl…you okay?" Warrick asked as he rushed towards her.

Reeling from the sensations, Sara pushed away as she willed herself to move in any manner away from this location of heartache.

"Sara?" Warrick called again, glancing from Grissom's closed door back to Sara's retreating form.

"F-fine…I'm fine…" Sara called weakly as her feet moved her towards the locker room.

Glad to find the room empty, Sara flew instinctively towards the darkened backroom shower stalls.

Again happy to find the space unoccupied, she entered the first stall and drew the shower curtain forcefully before slumping down into a sobbing mass of human misery.

Tears continued to flow silently, as her life history had taught her the need to hide her agony for fear of discovery.

Discovery meant more humiliation as there were always those who would "give you something to cry about!"

Or worse.

Discovery meant pitying looks for those who would view you as a victim through sympathetic eyes.

So tears could flow silently, now brushed away by a hand encased in angry red flesh that branded her a victim forever.

And she sat alone. And at this moment she felt she would always be alone.

-------------------

A long while later, Sara drew a calming breath as her eyes glanced towards the face of her wristwatch – a welcome back to work present from Grissom.

_Grissom._

Her shaky fingers ran over the outline of the simple timepiece, which she found eloquent in its simplicity.

She recalled the first day home from the hospital as Jillian left to gather the mail.

Jillian had moved her things into Sara's small apartment, and was touched when Grissom insisted on an expensive inflatable mattress with an air box spring so that she would not have to sleep on the couch.

It was obvious that Jillian enjoyed helping Sara as she eased herself back into a regular routine.

And for perhaps the first time in her life, Sara had come to enjoy having someone sincerely interested in her well-being on an ongoing basis.

Sara never had more than fair-weather friends growing up; moving among several foster homes did not allow for deep friendships to form.

In her chats with Jillian, Sara cautiously felt they spoke as if had become like friends, revealing little of their past histories but moving in-depth as they discovered similar likes and dislikes.

When Jillian had brought in the wrapped package with the rest of her mail, Sara had been so moved as she noted the sender.

Almost giddy with excitement (after all who ever sent _her_ presents?), Sara had fumbled with the wrapping while Jillian slit open the card with a letter opener.

_Sara,_

_Despite_

_knowing that it has been a long time since __**I**__ have called your name for assignments, _

_and_

_knowing you __**will **__be having second thoughts about coming back to the lab,_

_and_

_knowing that I have never seen you wear a __**watch**__ to work,_

_and_

_knowing you might be hesitant __**over **__what happened to you on your last case,_

_and_

_knowing all that, I thought perhaps __**you **__needed a "bribe" to assure you that the team is anxious to get you back as soon as possible…_

_and_

so am I_._

_So…here's my "incentive" to let you know I'll be waiting whenever you think the time is right…hope you won't be late for your first night back!_

_-Grissom_

Sara leaned her head back against the cool tile of the shower stall and closed her eyes lest she focus on her distorted reflection mirrored in the polished steel of her hiding place.

Earlier tonight as she slipped the white gold timepiece onto her wrist, a small glimmer of hope has sparkled softly amid her anxiety.

He'd been so wonderful these last few weeks.

She had seen a new side of him, even felt as if he were opening up to her a bit more to show the real man behind the façade erected to keep the world at bay.

Those thoughts were stilled by the sound of Grissom's voice echoing the empty locker room.

"Sara?"

His tone was even, but the timbre betrayed the anxiety that lay beneath the surface.

"Sara?" he called again, a bit more anxiously.

He was the pied piper and she found herself unable to ignore his unspoken plea to end his worry.

"Here," Sara spoke softly, wiping the stray tears and pulling herself to stand.

"I'm here," she repeated a bit louder as she heard him pause, straining to hear the sound he thought he only imagined.

When she stepped around the corner, she almost laughed at the relief played across Gil's face as his eyes closed heavily.

She expected a reprimand for being late for assignments.

She expected a lecture on not being ready to return to work.

She did not expect him to open his eyes and move forward to surround her firmly into his arms.

"Sara."

His embrace erased the doubts that had tormented her since her arrival.

He was here…holding her…in the locker room…uncaring as to who might walk in….

After a long moment, he moved back a bit but still maintaining his presence in her personal space.

"Judy said you were here. I looked for you. I-I couldn't find you. I thought-"

He didn't finish his statement.

His pounding heart was testament to the threat to her safety he still perceived as real.

Her smile was soft, encouraging him to relax.

His focus was on her lips, and on his desire to taste them again.

However, mindful of his reputation, Sara turned towards the door slowly as to distance herself from her growing need to be close to him.

She would not be the cause of damaging gossip that might cause him grief.

He stood there just watching her, wanting another touch, another kiss.

Sara turned at the doorway, smirking playfully as she teased, "Dr. Grissom, I do believe you are going to be late for assignments."

He reared his head slightly as he raised his eyes to the heavens while breathing out on a soft chuckle.

_This woman is going to be the death of me._

Grissom moved forward and placed his hand on the small of her back as they moved in tandem towards the breakroom.

Shouts and greetings rang out as the duo entered the room, but Sara immediately noticed the icy stares from opposite ends of the table directed at her upon moving into the room.

Grissom smiled at Sara, hoping she understood the guys were sincere in their happiness on her return.

He was a bit too focused on Sara, however, and missed the cool reception from Sofia and Terri.

Terri Miller had only glared at Greg who had commandeered the chair she had been saving for Gil to occupy.

Sofia sat back smiling in satisfaction as she twisted slightly towards the empty chair she had kept close to hers in anticipation of their boss' arrival.

Both women were taken aback when Gil, in looking at the seating arrangements of the table, asked Nick to grab Sara a chair – and then proceeded to take Nick's seat when Sara sat in the newly offered chair right next to him.

Nick seemed not to notice as he grabbed a hug from Sara, saying, "Glad you're back, Sunshine."

His smile still focused on Sara, Nick failed to notice, as he claimed the empty seat next to Sofia, the angry waves rolling off the blonde to his left.

Assignments given, Sara was on paperwork unless a call came in. The rest of the team scattered as they went to their assignments.

A few hours later, Grissom's phone rang. Sara looked up from her spot next to him in the breakroom as they had spent the time reviewing reports.

Seeing his forehead crunch only meant this call was causing him great concern.

"Okay, Sofia…I'll send someone to your location."

Hanging up the phone, Gil looked in deep thought, and Sara waited patiently for him to speak.

Looking up at the call board, he sighed, and she knew whatever was bothering him had him very concerned.

Finally, he looked over at her, hating what he was about to say.

"Sara-"

_I'm not really going to do this, am I?_

The soft touch of her hand on his snapped his eyes to hers.

"I'm okay, Griss…I can do my job."

_But I'm not okay with having you out there…another arson…_

Her touch increased. He inhaled deeply.

"Trust me?"

All he could do was nod.

She smiled fully. "Thank you."

Rising, her hand moved to his forearm.

"I'll just go…get my kit."

Just like that, she was gone.

He knew he only had minutes before she returned for the assignment slip.

Wasting no time, he flicked open his cell phone and hit the speed dial.

"Jim…where are you right now?"


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Just a reminder that this story is rated M for a reason as it discusses violence and rape…and in later chapters, romance…THANK YOU for all the reviews and reader support…this chapter is short, but I hope to work on the story again tomorrow…not enough hours in a day…thanks for your patience….all mistakes are mine…you remain, as always, just so terrific…more as soon as possible….-Kathy  
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Chapter 9

As Sara's Denali rolled to a stop, her heart was pounding inside her slightly shaking frame.

This scene before her was eerily similar to the call-out she and Nick had responded to that night…that night when they-

Her eyes closed defensively, as if hiding within the dark security that blanketed her from this action might somehow keep the bile from rising any higher.

"_And you!…_you_ are coming with me, pretty girl…"_

A frightened cry emitted from somewhere deep within, filling the darkness as Sara's eyes flew opened in terror.

Paralyzed with fear, she could barely make her body inhale as this panic attack threatened a complete blackout.

Eyes darting wildly, it took several moments before her breathing approached anywhere near normal.

It was the first flashback she had suffered from her ordeal at the hands of her sadistic kidnapper.

In the hospital, the doctors at first prodded her to talk about her capture, and the events of the attack that led to the scarring.

She refused to discuss it, claiming she had no recollection.

They advised her to seek counseling, warning of the dangers of suppressing such a horrific encounter.

She assured them she was fine and, in the need to address her physical injuries, no one had further pursued the discussion.

Now, worry over becoming awash in recollection spurred Sara to fling open the driver's door and pour herself out onto the darkened graveled driveway.

The cool night air felt good on her face flushed with rising emotions.

Thrusting her kit from the confines of the backseat, she slammed her doors with such force as to make the office on duty turn towards her.

Her palms were sweaty, and the material covering her healing scars was starting to chafe the skin at her neck and wrists.

Forcing herself to walk erect, Sara pulled on her reserved façade and marched towards the uniformed guard, hoping he had not heard her distress of a few moments ago.

Rather than slink silently by as was her first inclination, instead Sara locked gazes with this stranger in this slightly illumined area.

"CSI Sidle. Who's in charge of this scene?" she asked in a voice so professional that no one would suspect the level of adrenaline still coursing through her veins.

"Evening. That would be Sofia Curtis. Last I saw her, she was taking pictures of the rubble."

Smiling her thanks, Sara continued to breathe in steadily as her lungs burned to protest the lack of available oxygen.

Nearing the scene, the odor of burned wood accosted her senses, threatening to engulf her in another flashback.

"_I'm gonna get you all nice and hot and bothered…"_

Sara now stood at the remains of the front steps, her feet refusing to move forward.

"_Oh, yeah, pretty girl…go ahead and fight me…I love to make you squirm…"_

A hand on her shoulder made Sara whirl around defensively, putting some distance between her and the owner of those fingers.

"Sara? Is everything alright?" Sofia's voice drifted through Sara's hazy confusion.

The words sounded sincere, even if the facial expression accompanying it left much doubt as that emotion.

"Fine," was all that Sara could squeak out, turning away from Sofia for a moment to get her raging heart rate under control.

"I've taken photos of the front entryway as best I could – firefighters just left within the last hour," Sofia continued as she dismissed Sara's obvious discomfort.

Without thought, Sara glanced at her new timepiece.

"Nice watch. Never seen you wear one to a crime scene," Sofia asked with an unreadable look in her eyes as she glanced from watch to wearer.

"Oh," Sara almost stuttered with uncertainty, not wanting to let anyone besides Jillian know where it came from.

"Uh, yeah…it was a gift," she continued as she turned away from Sofia to open her kit.

When she glanced back towards the blonde, Sara was surprised to find she was still staring at the watch.

"Sofia?" she asked.

Immediately, the blonde squared her shoulders as if to shake herself from a haze.

"That leaves you to take shots of the perimeter. You might want to start out back," she directed as lead CSI on the scene.

"So…it will just be you and me?" Sara asked trying not to sound too insecure.

Suddenly the need to feel the security of Gil's presence beside her was almost overwhelming.

"Officer Johnson will stand guard…sure you're alright?" Sofia spoke over her shoulder as she was already moving away towards the patrolman.

Sara turned and steeled herself for the task.

Pulling the camera out of her kit, she pocketed some extra film cartridges and turned towards her destination.

She could do this.

She _would_ do this.

But as she took a step towards the darker area that was in the shadows of the searchlights in front, her breath hitched as she noticed the wind was picking up a bit, sending an ominous shiver down her spine.

Sara tugged on the collar of her jacket, clutching the camera just a bit tighter as her feet shakily moved towards the rear of the scene.

She continued an internal monologue as if to ward off any additional flashbacks.

_You're not alone._

_An officer's on scene._

_The scene's been cleared, right?_

_RIGHT???_

The thought occurred to her that she had not established that the officer had completely cleared the grounds.

But Sofia knew where she was heading, and the last Sara had noted she was walking towards the officer who had positioned himself at the entrance to the driveway.

Suddenly, her faith in Sofia's interest in her safety dwindled hopelessly.

Now her footsteps halted.

She turned her head cautiously, only to find her view of the driveway completely obscured by the edge of the house.

Sara stood frozen, unable to make her feet move in either direction.

Her inability to move brought on another flashback.

_He had tied my feet to the bedposts…he grabbed my hair…he – he tore at my clothes with that knife…_

"_Pretty girl…"_

Unconsciously, as if to distance herself from her memory, Sara had now begun to inch ever so slowly backwards towards the spindly-branched thicket that encased the backyard.

When she felt the slight poke of the wind-tossed branch on her back, the scream she emitted was masked by the sudden roar of the wind through the wooded area.

Sara whipped around with such speed that the camera went flying off into the air, landing with a thud on a nearby pile of waterlogged timbers from what used to be a side porch.

Her arms raised automatically in defense as she stood face-to-face with intertwined limbs of every size and shape that allowed only the smallest amount of some distant backlight to shine through.

She closed her eyes in an unsuccessful attempt to prevent the tears from sliding down her face.

She wished with all her heart that Gil was here to hold her, to keep her safe.

When she opened her eyes again, her gaze fell onto her still-outstretched wrists and held onto the wristwatch that Gil had given to her, the nightglow feature sending a comforting reminder of its sender.

It brought her great comfort just to remember Gil's note, " …_I will watch over you…"_

Her smile was only half-formed before her eyes detected the intensity change of the watch's glow as suddenly it seemed the moon had hidden its shine behind a cloud making the darkness around her almost palpable.

Sara's pulse began to race as she snapped her neck towards the night sky – only to view the moon in its full glory.

The synapses in her brain crackled with information leading her to fill with the dread on the inescapable conclusion.

Something was obscuring the light filtering through the thicket.

Before she could react, her senses flooded her brain with warning:

Her ears heard the small snap of the low lying branches on the other side of the thicket.

Her eyes saw movement directly in front her, something straining through the thicket in a jerking movement.

Her nose caught wind of a sickeningly familiar smell.

Her mouth tasted the bile that instantly rose at the thought that this could be happening again.

But her hands…her hands felt the scratched leather of the gloves as they clamped over her wrists and started to pull her forward.

To an onlooker, it would seem Sara had decided to wrestle a leafless hedge as she never ceased resisting against the force that would pull her through the thicket.

She couldn't scream, lest the inside of her mouth become as scratched and bloody as her neck and face were becoming as she was being pulled further inside this tree-lined border.

She had closed her eyes to prevent them from being damaged, but she squinted through narrowed eyes as she tried to discern who was doing this to her.

And then she saw it.

The same, yellowish glare that she had encountered before, that had captured her before, that had…

Her mouth spewed forth its vomit onto her attacker's clenched grip, causing them to momentarily loosen their hold in reaction to the disgusting warmth that now permeated the worn areas where the stitching had disintegrated.

Her stomach still retching, Sara pulled back forcefully and, for a second, thought she could make good her escape.

A figure lunged forward however and grabbed onto her upper arms before looming in the darkness to stare at her a moment.

Even in the blackness, Sara could see the missing toothed-smile that brought the buried details of her previous experience now crashing to her conscious mind.

Then, she heard it.

Once again finding herself unable to move, the figure seemed more bent on terrorizing her at that moment as he grinned while repeating in an evil whisper, "My _pretty girl_…"

At that moment, Sara became aware of noise and movement that were coming from the side of the house.

The figure released her and fled through the bushes.

Sara fell to the ground as her body refused to deal with the terror that she had just survived.

Slamming backwards into the ground, her head hit upon the pile of ashes and fire-scorched timbers bringing blessed darkened to blanket her awareness.

The last sound she registered was Brass' calling for her, only to hear the heated expletive he let escape before sounds of his footsteps running closer all but blocked out the urgent command he bellowed into his open cellphone, "This is Detective Brass, I need an ambulance at this location…"


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Summertime is proving to be as busy as Spring, but so much more time for fun!...sorry for the delay in posting…I made the mistake of glancing through the archives and found a fun read called "Facades" by GeekLoveFan of which I read the first chapter as it was being written ages ago…unabashedly A/U and super dripping with stupidly impossible, never-could-happen action…and I couldn't stop reading, well into the night…if you are looking for something fun, don't miss out…I'd love to hear your reactions to that story, please IM me if you read (Meliara, this one will be right up your alley)…this chapter moves the action again…more clues if you read with a discerning eye…I just love a protective Grissom, and this chapter made me smile…hope it brings one to you…thanks again and again for the reader support and reviews from all you terrific people…GSR SO rules…more as soon as possible, but I have to concentrate on working on the wedding chapter for my other story I love…this chapter could be considered the "calm before the storm"…no time to reread, all mistakes are mine…hope it pleases… -Kathy

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A frightening sense of déjà vu washed over Grissom as he sped towards the scene.

He had been walking towards the layout room with Greg when Brass' call came.

Greg had paused in his recitation of details on the new evidence for his case as his footsteps marched in time with Grissom's, nearing their destination.

The next moment his chest felt the crunch of the file his supervisor had been holding, almost dropping the papers onto the floor as his feet ground to a halt in surprise.

Looking up, he barely caught sight of his boss' figure as it sped around the corner towards the parking lot exit.

He might still be standing there looking more like a confused stockboy than a crime scene investigator if it wasn't for Hodge's flippant comment: "You make a better door than a window, Greg," tossed from inside the lab the CSI used to call home.

Pausing only long enough to throw an irritated glance at his replacement, Greg gathered the information into a manageable pile as he turned and strode towards the breakroom in search of someone who might shed light on what had just occurred.

Meanwhile, Gil fought to remain in control as his mind replayed the clipped message that had played across the airwaves from what sounded like total chaos in the background.

"_Get down here to Sofia's crime scene…NOW, Gil…it's - Sara…" _

He'd never remember doing 70+ as he hit the highway, nor would he recall his tires screeching to a halt next to Brass' vehicle.

Not pausing to slam his door closed, the dashboard alarm dinged repeatedly, but Gil's attention was riveted only on the cacophony of sight and sound that greeted him from the crime scene before him.

His eyes darted in panic, initially unsuccessful in finding their target.

He moved into an all-out run, weaving in and out of officers as they stood to receive their orders.

Nearing the end of the driveway, Gil slowed as his body turned round and round in search of Jim and Sara.

Feeling like he was on a merry-go-round…but this was not a childhood game.

This was about finding Sara.

His final revolution was halted by the sight of Sofia and the feel of her hands on his forearms.

"Gil-" she spoke softly, looking disconsolate and desperate as if she wanted him to throw his arms around her for comfort.

She moved intimately close to him, and was pleased when he did not pull away.

"It's always _something_ with Sara-" she began, wanting him to understand what great sorrow she had that her "poor coworker" seemed to need saving _again_.

_That_ comment brought Gil back into the present.

Sofia smiled warmly as she felt Gil's hands grip her upper arms.

She soon tensed, however, as she felt the pressure of his hands continue to increase until he held her almost painfully.

"_Where?_" he ground out, his eyes capturing hers with such intensity that she dare not look away.

Unable to answer, Sofia merely nodded towards the back of the house.

The next moment she stood alone, her eyes narrowing at the back of Gil's head nearing the end of the driveway as he ran towards his destination.

He heard her before he saw her, plaintively insisting in a small voice, "No…I'm fine…"

What he saw as he turned the corner also turned his stomach.

There were two paramedics near Sara, one standing and one kneeling too close for Grissom's liking.

Sara had folded in on herself, her knees pulled tightly against her chest as she wrapped her shivering arms around them as if they were her lifeline.

Looming too close for comfort (his? or Sara's?) knelt a handsome, lanky paramedic whose frustration with his patient sent angry waves through Grissom.

"Stop it, Sara! I'm taking you _now_, so let's cooperate!"

The other EMT who had been standing by the gurney turned at the sound of Gil's arrival, his face turning ashen at the look on Grissom's face directed at his partner, Hank.

His eyes darting between Gil and the object of his dislike, the paramedic backed off helplessly as he mentally pleaded with his partner to not do something stupid now that they had an audience.

But that was not in Hank's nature.

Sara's adamant stance angering him, Hank grabbed her upper arms to force her into a standing position.

When she cried out in pain-filled terror, his grip crushing her healing wounds as his movements recalled her recent encounter, Grissom saw red.

"Put her down, Hank!"

The bellow shocked Hank into releasing Sara, who folded in on herself even further as she buried her head in her knees, sobbing.

During the five strides it took to reach her side, Gil was struck by the sight of this feminine powerhouse dissolved into a quivering puddle of emotion – and anger seized him at this evidence of the horror she must have experienced to bring her to this state.

"This patient is obviously traumatized…I am within my rights to transport her despite her protests if I feel she is unable to make a rational decision on the matter, which she _clearly_ is not!" Hank spewed haughtily in Gil's direction.

His next comment would be sent from his sprawled out position looking upwards at the night sky.

As Gil snapped his stinging fist outwards a few times, he loomed over the object of his anger, reining in the overwhelming desire to pound this piece of crap into the ground.

"Don't you _ever _touch her again!" he growled, before turning towards Sara whose protective stance had prevented her from seeing their altercation.

"She. Needs. Help!" Hank all but yelled as he slowly moved into a sitting position, his anger obvious yet clearly keeping out of Gil's swing range.

Grissom's glare bored straight through the disgruntled paramedic.

"She needs _nothing_ from _you_! Stay the hell away from her! _Understand_?" Gil managed to grind out before completely dismissing the pair of stunned EMTs.

Grissom looked to Sara and realized she held herself in such a tense position in an effort to detach herself from what was happening around her.

Seeing the blood still pooling on the sleeves of her thin jacket, he did a quick assessment and did not like what he saw.

Her forehead was the only facial area visible, and it had quite a few scratches that did not look life-threatening.

Her upper arms seemed to have only one or two sites where blood was actually running; the rest seemed to be spots where her clothing had brushed against those areas.

It was the blood near her hips that frightened him most.

_God, please…please don't let her have been- attacked – sexually._

Even as his hand moved slowly towards her, Sara's body began shaking uncontrollably.

"Please….don't…" her small voice quivered, and Gil withdrew his hand sharply.

Realizing he hadn't spoken to her, Grissom wondered if Sara really understood that he was there.

Hesitating briefly, he suddenly stood and moved towards the gurney where the two EMTs were now congregated, Hank's angry glare softening in anticipation of a replay as he saw Gil rush towards his location.

Flinching slightly, the EMT was inwardly relieved to see Gil grab the folded blanket from the stretcher and rush silently back towards Sara.

As he lay the unfolded blanket over her shoulders, Grissom began speaking in reassuring tones.

"Sara? Honey, it's just me.

You're okay.

I'm here with you.

You're okay now.

Nothing's going to happen to you.

I won't let it.

I'll watch over you."

That last phrase seemed to reach Sara's troubled mind.

She slowly turned her face upwards, causing Gil to wince at the varied depths of the multiple scratches that covered that still-beautiful face.

"Griss?" she exhaled softly, looking up at him through narrowed lids, almost disbelieving that he could really be here.

"I'm right here, honey."

"I- I want to go _home_," she choked, her eyes closed against the tears at the sensation of the warmth from his touch as he pulled the blanket tighter around her and moved a bit closer.

He was pleased that Sara was responding to him, clearly a different reaction than Hank had received with his bullying taunts.

"Honey…you're hurt. You should go and get checked out-"

"NO!" Sara's eyes flew open in terror. "No one sees! NO ONE SEES!"

She began rocking herself softly, her fingers tugging at the rolled up edges as she tried to burrow into the shadows of the blanket.

"Sh-sh-sh….Sara….okay, okay…just relax….I'm here…you're okay…just relax…" Gil continued to soothe as he gently touched and smoothed her hair, moving his hands cautiously as he tried to calm her while checking for himself if she showed any signs of head trauma.

He whipped his head around to see the EMTs still standing there, and for the first time he wondered where the hell Brass was, and why he had left Sara alone in this state.

"Where's Detective Brass?" Gil directed his comment to Hank's partner.

His tone showed his authority and the EMT opened his mouth to answer, but Hank responded first.

"We were sent here to transport an injured patient, not to be your on-scene traffic controllers!"

Gil would love to have given Hank another full view of the stars, but he kept his anger in check and decided he would take care of that maggot later.

Turning towards her, Gil whispered softly near her ear, "Sara? Honey, I'm going to find Brass. He'll take us home, okay? Will you be alright for just another minute?"

He was encouraged that she leaned into him for a response.

Instinctively he pressed his lips to the top of her head, and wrapped his arms lightly around her, wanting nothing more than to scoop her up and carrying her away from here, away from Vegas, so far away that no one would ever find them.

Instead, he kissed her lightly again and released her slowly before readjusting to the blanket to cover her fully.

Watching her head flop down to the top of her drawn up knees, his heart sank.

Standing, he whirled around towards the paramedics and spoke tersely, "_Watch _her."

His message was clear: _Hands off, Hank_.

Without waiting for a reply, Gil turned a final time towards Sara before stalking up the driveway to find Brass.

_And he better have a good explanation for leaving her…_

Reaching the top of the driveway, Gil stopped short at the scene, his head swimming with images that he could not reconcile with reality.

Before him stood Brass, his arm around the shoulders of – Terri Miller?

He head shook almost imperceptively as if to clear it.

_What was Terri doing here? And why were _her_ eyes raining tears? WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE?_

Gil noted that Sofia had become aware of his presence, and he didn't react as she slinked towards him.

Just as she reached him but before she opened her mouth to speak, however, he noted Sofia's eyes roll back in her head, her smile dramatically change as her jaw jutted forth at the sound behind her.

"Oh…_Gil_!..."

Next thing he knew, his arms were full of a sobbing Terri Miller.

He looked helplessly inadequate as his arms mechanically soothed her trembling back.

Sofia sent daggers towards her coworker's proximity to the man who should be hers.

Unnoticed by Gil, the blonde's eyes followed his hands' stilted movements up and down Terri's back, her anger blossoming at this intimate contact with the forensic artist.

Ignoring Sofia's presence and now locking eyes with a worried Brass, Grissom sought an explanation for this weeping woman in his arms.

Inhaling deeply, Jim first looked at Gil, then the house, then back at Terri.

His words sent ice through Gil's veins.

"Seems this was the house she was renting while she was in Vegas."

_First Sara, now Terri…why is someone out to hurt my CSIs?_

His gaze locked on Sofia, and his concern for this woman's safety was now written in his eyes.

She smiled and cocked her head slightly.

"I'm _fine_," she insisted, her toes tingling that he was obviously worried about her.

He released Terri and pulled back suddenly, as all four heads turned towards the sudden commotion at the back of the house.

Shouts and protests, the start of an engine, and then – silence.

Before Gil could even comprehend what was happening, blue and red flashing lights were tearing up the driveway that was now too far away for anyone to stop them.

As the ambulance began to accelerate down the road, Grissom's forehead creased sharply as the lighted bay showed Hank securing the last strap over a struggling Sara before turning to grin triumphantly at Grissom, sending him a sarcastic salute.

Without word, Gil flung a shocked Terri towards a surprised Brass, not stopping for an incredulous Sofia's plea of "Grissom!"

Jumping into his open-doored Denali, his heart fluttered wildly as his K-turn was made with such force that his tires dug trenches in the softened earth beneath them.

Flipping on his cell phone, he speed-dialed Brass.

Barking into the phone, Gil released some of his frustrations on the events that were occurring, cursing the officer in charge for not properly clearing the scene Sara had been assigned to for the second time, vowing to kill this Hank with his bare hands this time, blaming Brass for leaving Sara alone…

All the time, Brass tried to remain calm, pleading with Gil to slow down and take a breath before he created a new crime scene, to think about the ramifications of his angry plans, to give him a minute to explain…

Both men talked and neither listened, and the conversation continued that way until the lights of Desert Palms came into view.

By then, Gil had spent off most of his aggravation and breathed deeply before pulling into the ER police parking spot – which was a tricky navigation as the opened doors of the empty ambulance were all but blocking that area.

"I'm here," was all he spat into the cell before snapping the case closed disconnecting the call, bounding out of the vehicle without thought to take his phone which had immediately begun ringing again.

Pushing on the automatic doors in an effort to open them faster, Gil strode right through the crowded ER waiting room and down the hallway to the treatment rooms.

He moved so quickly that the triage nurse did not have time to look up or see him practically sprint down the hallway.

His movements unfettered, Gil made a beeline towards the muted strains of Sara's defiant distress.

She sat on the bed, pulling her legs towards her protectively.

"No!" She was adamant.

"Miss Sidle, you must allow us to assess your condition."

"No!" She was insistent.

"Miss Sidle, as ER attending physician, I can insist on restraints – it's obvious you aren't in a mental state to make clear decisions-"

"_NO_!" She began swatting at the doctor's hand, almost overcome with terror.

Sighing aloud at the action he felt his patient had brought upon herself, the last thing Gil heard before reaching her area was the doctor's order, "Hank, could you give me a hand here?"

Sara's frightened cry as Hank leaned over her to begin wrapping her in restraints was too much for Grissom.

The next few moments slowed in his awareness, Gil's mind recording mere snapshots of the action as it unfolded before his eyes:

_-His hands on the drawn curtain as he flung it back with such force as to knock some of the clips_ _out of their track…_

_-His fist tightening as he reached forward, yanking Hank backwards with one opened hand while flattening him with an upper cut from the other…_

_-His defiant glare shot towards the doctor that made the retreating physician all but speechless…_

_-His arms shooting out, one under Sara's knees and the other supporting her upper back as he swooped in to whisk her off the table…_

_-His string of expletives as he ended with "you #$%…she said __**NO**__!"…_

_-His surge of adrenaline which caused him to lift her effortlessly from the slim bed, leaving the attempted restraints to fall carelessly from the sides…_

_-His long strides as he swiftly made his way past the triage nurse who slowly stood in shock, wondering what was happening…_

_-His ears hearing the call for Security as he made their way out the sliding doors that seemed to open more quickly as if in response to Gil's angry approach…_

_-His neck feeling Sara's breath as she unfolded in his grip, moving as if she wanted to crawl inside him and hide from her ordeal…_

_-His hands gently releasing her and pulling the seatbelt comfortably over her…_

_-His eyes searching her face, locking her gaze before accepting her tiny smile…_

_-His body steeling itself towards his mission as he pulled the Denali out of the drive just as Security ran out of the building…_

_-His relief at having made good their escape…_

_-His worry that he had indeed made the right decision…_

As the Denali made its way towards Sara's apartment, Gil had all he could do to concentrate on driving the vehicle without further incident.

His focus was on Sara's mute form; his desire to pull onto the highway and drive until tomorrow becoming stronger as he just wanted to put some distance between them and the source of her pain.

In the few blocks before their destination, Gil broke the comfortable silence and inhaled deeply before forcing himself to ask the question:

"Did someone…"

His voice became mute, but his enraged mind echoed inside his overloaded brain:

…_rape you?_

_Did someone hurt you, my darling Sara?_

…_I couldn't bear it…not again…_

Instead, with the mind meld that characterized their working relationship, Sara only pulled tighter onto her knees and whispered, "No…he…no…not this time…"

_Not _this_ time?_

_Do mean it was the same guy?…_

_It wasn't the same guy, Sara…it _couldn't_ be…_

_I watched that bastard burn to death, while you-_

Images and questions played havoc with his mind, and numbly he pulled into the parking lot of her apartment complex before shutting off the engine and turning to look at her.

Gil was surprised when Sara lifted her head and struggled to speak.

He gave her a moment to gulp back her tears before she choked out, "…please…"

In a heartbeat she was in his embrace, tears running silently down her face as he struggled to contain his own emotions.

After what seemed like ages, their heart rates slowed and Gil kissed the top of her head softly before saying, "Let me get my first aid kit, and I'll take a look at you, okay, honey?"

His worry that she would refuse was quickly replaced with a sense of pride as Sara averted her gaze from his to respond in a small voice, "But just you…"

She trusted him.

He would show her that he was worthy of that trust.

He pulled the kit out of the back and made his way around to open her door.

Looking at her, she nodded in resignation, and he scooped her up in his arms and carried her up the outside stairs leading to her hallway.

Once inside the building, he took the key she had fished out of her pocket and opened the door wide before their presence was detected by some nosy neighbor.

He closed the door with his foot, pausing only long enough to secure the chain, and walked back to her bathroom.

Setting her down on her feet, he sat her on the edge of the bathtub, wincing as he took the first close-up view of her injuries.

As he went to turn on the overhead light, his hands stilled as Sara spoke, "No…please…"

Twisting around the unfamiliar layout, Gil spied a nightlight in the socket and caught Sara's gaze seeking permission.

She nodded slightly, and he flicked on the small device which enveloped the room in a soft but adequate glow.

It took almost half an hour as he worked slowly, always waiting for her consent:

- to remove the bloody jacket, shirt, and with great care her sports bra without causing additional pain,

-to gently bath her bloody face and upper body,

-to apply salve and bandages where they would do the most good,

-to unsuccessfully attempt to rid her of her jeans to inspect for additional cuts and bruises to her lower half.

No, she assured him she was fine…then stunned him when she requested that he leave her alone to finish washing up.

Gil left the kit and turned to leave, stopping at the door to remind her that she should call him if she needed anything.

Reluctant to leave her alone, he only partially closed the door, the bright light from the living room straining to brighten the dimly lit room where she stood.

Sara finished removing her jeans and underwear, flipping them towards the trash can, distractedly wondering if any amount of washing would remove the blood stains.

Instead of turning the water on to wash, Sara found herself staring at the image in the large paneled mirror before her.

Her eyes traveled slowly taking stock of every scratch on her forehead, cheeks, and neck; every inch of burned flesh that encroached over her slender arms tracking over her chest and shoulder; every mark that meandered darkly down the tender recesses of her arms until it pooled maliciously over her wrists.

_Ugly._

_Deformed._

_Unlovable._

Gil paced the living room.

_I need to check on her…she's been in there too long…_

Fighting his instincts which overrode his desire to give her the space she requested, Gil found himself pushing open the door slowly, his heart breaking at the sight of her just staring at her body with a contemptuous glare.

Even as Gil's hands moved softly over her shoulders, almost unable to bear the pain her eyes betrayed as she stared helplessly but unmoving before him, he could feel her slipping away from him.

"Sara," he breathed almost as a plea to open up to him, tell him all that plagued her.

His hoped rose when her hand moved away from the counter, but fell as she shut off the nightlight in a vain attempt to hide herself from his searching eyes.

"Please," he continued as he pressed for a response.

Sara pulled forward now allowing his touch to slide from her shoulders down her spine until she freed herself from the torment of wanting this man's love even though she was sure he could never really love such a freak as the accident had made her.

"Sara," he repeated, but stopped his forward movement when he heard the finality in her response.

"No," she almost whispered, a resigned smirk registering on her tired features.

"There's nothing left to do, nothing left to hope, nothing left…to love…" her voice trailed off sadly as she continued to hold herself perfectly still, just staring into the pitiable reflection as had become her habit these many weeks.

"Oh, Sara," Gil answered, moving away from her.

_Away from me…he can't get far enough away, now that he's seen-that he's seen what I have become…_

Her melancholy was short-lived however as her senses became heightened as the room was suddenly dipped into darkness when Gil softly closed the door behind them.

With the glare from the living room lights extinguished, only the soft shadow of the full moon through the shuttered bathroom window claimed dim control over the area.

Sara's eyes continued to remain fixed upon the mirror, her criminalist's mind examining and processing the scene before her.

In the shadows, only the distinct outlines of her form were discernable. The long cut of her hair, her lanky body flanked by two thin arms now bracing themselves against the counter.

This presentation of her body pleased Sara on many levels; it was the first time in what seemed like forever she was not disgusted with the sight of her own body.

In a moment, another figure appeared close behind her, a shadow-man of indiscriminate age.

Well built, sturdy, head cocked slightly as he peered over her shoulder from a dangerous proximity with its direction focusing on the sepia image reflected before him.

Sara took this moment to gaze at this shadowy form, enjoying the mystery of this male's age, hair tone, eye color, identity.

Here, in the darkness that surrounded them, their body language was introducing them as strangers – and yet more….

This time when Gil's hands reached up to push one length of Sara's hair behind her shoulder, she found herself reveling in his touch.

Leaning forward, he placed his chin softly on her shoulder before turning to place a small kiss aside her ear, whispering, "Sara…my beautiful Sara…"

She surprised herself at the involuntary sigh her body emitted as her head leaned on its own accord towards the warmth of his lips.

Pulling back slightly, his lips immediately began kissing the roughed skin atop her shoulder, the moisture of their touch like a soothing balm which was igniting a fire deep within that Sara thought long extinguished.

As his lips continued their movement back towards her neck, Sara allowed his arms to reach around her as his hands opened and splayed themselves gently across her wounded midsection.

Lips and hands constantly in soothing motion, Gil continued to speak softly as Sara now fully leaned against the warmth of his body.

After what seemed like eternity, Gil lifted his head and again softly rested his chin on her shoulder.

Holding her a bit more possessively, he continued to look into the mirror as the cessation of his movements caused her to open her eyes to once again look into the mirror.

What she saw then was enough to bring tears to her eyes.

Here, in the darkness, there was no deformity, no age difference, no walls to separate the hearts of the two persons standing in the shadows.

Here, in the darkness, there was only wanting and needing, and two persons who stood clinging to each other, desiring each other, loving each other.

"Sara," Gil whispered so as not to break the solemnity of the moment.

"Leo Tolstoy once wrote: 'He felt now that he was not simply close to her, but that he did not know where he ended and she began'."

Pulling her closer to him so that he melded into her, Gil continued to speak towards their reflection.

"Sara…this is the truth of you…the truth of us…"

She responded after a moment, "Darkness…the great equalizer…"

He frowned a bit at her reference to death, but continued without pause.

"Darkness…the medium that allows all the trappings to fade away, revealing the reality of what truly exists."

Kissing her softly on the neck, he resumed his directed conversation.

"Here, Sara, is where you will see the real me. Not afraid to have you see my age spots, my graying hair, my inability to keep from wanting to touch you, to get close to you…"

His candor shocked Sara, and she found herself leaning that much more forcefully into him.

He responded with more kisses, reveling in her own growing responsiveness,as his hands began to explore slightly from their once rigid boundaries.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Just heading out for the weekend, the summer job kept me busy this week…this chapter is short, but sets up the next action...posting on the fly, so all mistakes are mine…thanks for the tremendous reviews and reader response to this story…more soon, and that's a promise…you are terrific…-Kathy

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"Grisssss…" Sara breathed out on a sigh, his hands were gently gliding over her exposed abdomen and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Gil…_Gil_, honey…when we're alone…please…." he whispered as his lips barely brushed the luscious lobe of her ear, causing her knees to all but buckle under his hot breath stoking the flames of her desire.

"Gilll…" she breathed again, sending lustful thoughts surging through his psyche at the sound of her lips calling his name with such unmasked desire.

Bells.

She was hearing bells, just like in all the happy endings of those cheesy romance novels and movies she secretly coveted.

The bells continued to peal in the distance, their insistent tone distracting both Sara and Grissom only slightly.

"Phone," he murmured as he more determinedly pressed his lips to that special spot on her long neck which had fascinated him from their first meeting.

"Don't care," she replied pointedly, the knot in her stomach was now spreading its warmth downwards as she leaned against him, inwardly gleeful at his reaction to their closeness.

She felt his lips curve into a slight smile, as if in agreement.

His hands continued to barely touch her as they moved in ever-widening circles, and she leaned in surrender against him, her body language screaming her consent.

And Gil Grissom was extremely adept at reading her body language.

His hands now barely grazing the top of the curls as they circled around her slender waistline to the top of her curls below, their special private moment screeched to a abrupt halt by the pounding on front door of her apartment.

Gil's hands moved together to possessively hold Sara against him, his mind swirling with curses at the unwelcomed interruption.

His proximity made him keenly aware the moment she began to tremble, his concern escalating with the increase in the severity of her shudders.

"Sara?" his voice soft and reassuring.

"Who is that? _Who's there_?" she squeaked, her anxiety causing all sorts of scenarios she didn't want to revisit.

_Has he found me? Is he _here_? Oh god...no…please…_

If it were possible, Gil instinctively drew her closer still.

"Sara? C'mon, cookie, open up! Sara!" was heard over the knocking.

He instantly felt the relief flood her body.

Gil moved his hands enough to twist Sara around to face him.

Even in the dim light of the small bathroom, she could see the concern in his eyes which was in contrast to the smile he forced onto his face.

"Why don't you take a nice warm shower while I see what Brass wants," Gil suggested as he forced himself to remove the thoughts of what he would rather do now that he had her naked form pressed against him.

"Honey?" he asked again, his chin dipped slightly so he could catch her gaze.

Suddenly Sara was very aware of her lack of attire and began to blush profusely, glad the lack of direct light was there to hide her insecurities.

"Okay," she whispered as they in tandem moved towards a meeting of their lips.

The briefest brush was interrupted again by Brass' final warning: "Sara! Either open the door or I'm going to have to break it in!"

A shiver ran through her, and Gil pulled back to exit the room without taking his eyes off her.

"You go ahead with that shower…I'll deal with Jim," he said encouraging her with his wistful smile.

He purposefully flung the door open to flood the room with the harsh light of the living room lamps.

She gasped as she hastily flung her arms and moved them in a desperate attempt to cover herself from his gaze.

Instead of moving to the door as she expected him to do, Gil moved back into Sara's haven and latched onto her wrists, effectively removing them from covering her body.

He leaned into her and kissed her lightly on the forehead before attacking her lips forcefully for the briefest moment.

"We will finish this _conversation_ later, honey," he rasped out as his head motioned to the mirror, desire choking off any other words.

Then, steeling himself with every ounce of restraint he could muster, he whipped around and closed the door before barking that Brass should "wait a damn minute".

The door was flung open with such force that the knob would have knocked a hole in the wall behind it had Gil not retained such a tight grip on that piece of metal hardware.

His anger dissipated almost instantly as he saw the look of relief wash over the panic in Jim's eyes.

"She's here, then?" Brass huffed, moving inside and making a beeline to the couch.

"Yes, why-" Gil's words were cut off by Jim's string of expletives focused solely on the nightshift supervisor.

"What the _hell_ were you thinking?" Brass ended his tirade, dropping his head into his hands to rub his face briskly before continuing.

"I chase after you, half expecting to wind up in a murder scene at the hospital, only to find the place in a semi-lockdown as they search for any return of that maniac who terrorized the ER earlier-" he paused, needed to catch his breath.

Gil stood there, just now pondering the implications of what his actions must have looked like to an unsuspecting medical staff.

"Well," Jim said as he stretched his legs before standing to face him.

A hand placed on Gil's shoulder, Brass almost chuckled as he spoke, "No one can accuse you of not knowing how to make an entrance!"

At this, both men smiled slightly, understanding reached on both sides.

The distant sounds of the shower brought them back to the reality of the situation.

"How is she?" Jim asked parentally.

Sighing, Gil turned his head towards the hallway and was assaulted with visions of Sara reflected in the mirror with his arms around her, holding her, exploring her…

"Beautiful," he answered without thought, bringing a small chortle from Brass.

"What a time to finally get your head out of your ass," he replied, causing Gil's head to spin around and nail him with a glare.

Brass threw two hands up in defensive mode.

"Hey, better late than never!"

At this, Gil smiled softly and nodded a few times in surrender.

Brass squared his shoulders slightly and Gil watched with interest as he had often watched Jim repeat that action right before breaking some distressing news.

"What is it?" Grissom asked before his friend could speak.

"Terri Miller."

"Is she alright?" Gil asked impatiently, just now recalling his rather rude dislodging of a sobbing Terri before he raced to find Sara.

"Relax, buddy, she's fine. I took her to the station. Poor thing is so distraught. She lost everything in that fire. Clothes, personal effects…even the file she was compiling on this string of arsons," Brass finished with another swipe to his face.

"We offered to set her up in one of the hotels, but she's not too keen on the idea."

"Probably feels anxious…if someone is targeting her, there's not a great deal of security to be found in a busy hotel on the Strip," reasoned Gil.

Although she had spurned him and left a trail of distaste for her actions, still on some undefined level Gil was feeling a wave of protectiveness towards Terri even he couldn't explain.

"I need to see her," he said suddenly, and as fate would have it, at that moment the shower sounds fell silent.

Obviously torn between what he was compelled to do and what he wanted to do, Gil closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

"I can't leave her alone," he sighed, and upon opening his eyes Grissom locked gazes with a very confused Brass.

"And just _who_ is the "she" you are referring to?" Brass asked with a bit of an edge, wondering if Gil was reverting back to past behavior when it came to Sara.

Gil's eyes narrowed as he inhaled to keep his outer calm.

"Can you stay with her?" Grissom asked as he moved towards the door. "Tell her…tell her…"

"Tell her yourself," a soft voice challenged and both men whirled around to find Sara standing there clutching an oversized robe to herself, providing camouflage for her scarred areas.

Gil's mouth opened and closed for a moment, his mind unable to engage in conversation as he looked upon the drops of moisture still clinging to her unfettered curls.

His gaze landed on one drop which dove from the curl near his favorite spot on her neck; now free, it lazed down her chest and disappeared behind the folds of material that covered her cleavage.

He wanted her badly, and at this point his one-tracked mind refused to note that they were not alone.

"I-I-I-I …have to…" was all he could spit out as he gestured towards the door, the mental gears connecting thought to speech having ground to a halt at the sight of her.

Sara kept her gaze locked on Gil's eyes, searching for deception or for any indication that he had changed his mind or regretted their moment in the dark.

Instead, she found his gaze flooded with desire, with total abandonment of any focus other than her…and she found herself smiling softly despite her concerns.

"I see," she said plainly, although Gil read her true meaning instantly.

Trust.

She trusted him.

That fact was written in her eyes as naked as her beautiful form beneath that robe.

How he loved this woman.

How had he become so lucky that such an understanding, patient, adorable creature would ever choose _him_?

Without further thought, he breached the distance between them and pulled her into the gentlest of hugs, surrounding her with his warmth and affection.

Pulling back slightly, he kissed her lips soundly, pulling away only to be drawn once more as if he were a drowning man and she was his only lifeline.

"I can stay with Sara," Brass spoke, turning towards the kitchen to give these two a private moment before Gil left.

"Thanks, Jim," Gil spoke as he smiled into Sara's eyes.

He kissed her forehead once more, inhaling deeply as he released her from him arms.

Gil raised Sara's hands to his lips and kissed each softly, making a point of sliding the arms of her robe upwards so his lips touched her darkened scarring.

Another look with a small smile added. "I'll see you later."

Her response was equally timid. "Yeah. You will."

A pointed glance at Jim, who couldn't hid his smirk, and the door closed soundly behind Gil.

After Sara had changed, they were sitting at the breakfast bar as she began to give Brass her official statement of what had occurred when his beeper broke the tension.

"Brass…(sigh)…no…no…_FINE!_...twenty minutes…no…twenty, dammit!" he spoke gruffly before slamming shut his phone to stare at Sara with an unreadable expression.

Inhaling deeply, Jim held the breath a moment before twisting off the bar stool in a huff.

Moving towards the living room, Sara could see by the tension in his shoulders that he was going to do something that was extremely distasteful.

Flipping open his phone, he barked, "Dispatch…this is Brass…I need a 20 on CSI Curtis…"


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: I am posting on the fly, and so this chapter ends in odd place…but I wanted to post something today…consider it the first of a two-part chapter…it begins the chain of events that lead to the unmasking of the mastermind behind the crime scenes…the next chapter is coming soon…thanks for the faithful readers and reviewers who remain so terrific…all mistakes are mine…more as soon as possible…hope this pleases…I'M SO GLAD SARA"S COMING BACK THIS SEASON!!!....Kathy

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Sofia sat at the breakroom table, inwardly steaming at the amount of attention it seemed that everyone was lavishing on _poor Terri Miller._

The woman was an absolute wreck, continuing to tear up as she accepted hot tea, the warm jacket, and several loving shoulder squeezes from coworkers and lab techs.

Gripping her teacup a bit too tightly, Sofia sipped quietly as her thoughts ran to Sara…and the fact that Gil had still not returned from his desperate attempt to follow her to the hospital.

Most women who found themselves faced with competition for the man of their dreams would be feeling downhearted right about now.

But Sofia was not most women.

Finding herself alone with her nemesis she leaned forward, and in a voice full of feigned interest asked Terri, "So…it must be horrible to know you've lost _everything_. Have any idea of what you are going to do now?"

Glancing around to assure they were alone, Terri dropped her woeful posture and glared at her competition in a way that would suggest she picked up on the implied meaning.

Leaning firmly against the table as she growled, "_I'm_ not going _anywhere_, Sofia!"

An understanding smirk took up residence on Sofia's blank face before she spoke, "A shame. Seems like you really have _nothing_ left here for you."

Both women knew she was not referring to her destroyed possessions.

"We'll see about that-" Terri began before the sound of Grissom's entrance brought both women out of their intense conversation.

"Gil!" Terri all but whimpered, tears threatening to fall as if on cue.

Truth be know, Terri Miller had enough money to completely replace her wardrobe, vehicle, and personal items that had been destroyed by the heat of the blaze.

Hell, she could replace the rented townhouse if absolutely necessary.

However, that information remained unspoken as Gil moved to offer comfort by draping his arm loosely around her shoulders and leading her to the breakroom couch.

"It's all gone…I'd gotten a ride in this morning…oh…the car!...Gil!...everything…everything's gone!" she ended with a full blown sob and moved to clutch his shirt which she then drenched with her tears.

Sofia was about to applaud the performance when her cell phone chirped, and seeing BRASS emblazoned on the screen, she decided to remove herself from the drama taking place before her.

It tickled her to no end that as she rose and turned, Gil almost demanded, "Sofia?"

Inhaling before hiding her smile, she turned to respond in a calculatingly small voice, "Gil?"

It pleased her to see Terri's eyes narrow, turning her head turned slightly to bring it out of Gil's view.

"Just….just be careful tonight…if you're getting called out…"

Gil worried that his female CSIs were being targeted.

He didn't want another harrowing arson scene like they had just experienced tonight.

Having to deal with that would take time away from being with Sara.

_Sara._

He wondered what she was doing.

His heart raced a bit in worry, then he calmed his thoughts reminding himself that Brass was with her.

A small movement across his opened jacket yanked him back to the present as Terri snuggled a bit closer to him and bit back a sob.

"Gil…I just can't…go…to a hotel…I'm so afraid…"

Not usually a demonstrative man in the past, Gil's feelings for Sara brought out a tender side he had all but suppressed.

Without thought, his hand claimed hers from the spot where she was drawing small comforting circles across his sternum.

Again without a moment to think about the ramifications, he spoke, "Terri…stay at my townhouse."

Terri was delighted, but contained her enthusiasm enough to snuggle a bit tighter to Gil.

Sofia, having just reentered the room to hear Grissom's invitation, all but gasped before she eyed the blonde in his arms with contempt before she spoke, "Gil…I've been called out…" followed by an abrupt turn out the door.

She was going to explain that Brass wanted her to "babysit" _poor Sara,_ but after seeing the two so comfy on the couch Sofia was not in the mood to share anything else tonight.

-----

Brass was surprised at Sara's reaction to the news that he had to leave and was asking Sofia to stay with her until either Gil or he returned.

He was sure she would be angry, or incensed – _something._

Instead, she simply lowered herself wearily onto her couch all the while drawing her legs slowly until she was laid across the cushions.

The pain from her recent wounds was increasing, yet she had slid into the kitchen drawer the bottles of pain medication from her recent hospital stay.

They made her fuzzy and tired.

And she was hoping to wait up for Gil to return.

So now, she lay almost unmoving to prevent the deep cuts and sore ribs from hurting.

Her arms languishing across her eyes, she simply replied, "Fine."

In truth, Jim hated the thought of Sofia being anywhere near Sara.

He was fighting a nagging idea that the arson investigations had planted there as he dealt with the scene last night.

Could Sofia be involved somehow in the incidents?

Reflecting on the evidence, it seemed that the last two crime scenes where Sara was injured, Sofia had been there.

Slim at best, still the connection made his detective's mind swirl with all kinds of suspicions.

He had decided that since the Sheriff demanded his personal attention to a scene, it would be to his advantage to have Sofia locked away in Sara's apartment where she knew her actions would be spotlighted.

In some perverse sense of logic, Brass decided that if Sofia was charged with Sara's safety tonight, she would not allow anything to happen to Sara since there'd be too much to explain to Gil if something unforeseen happened.

And he knew of Sofia's interest in Gil, therefore it seemed like a perfect plan.

So why was his brow damp with perspiration?

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Grissom stepped across the threshold to his townhouse, moving forward to snap on the lights in his foyer before turning to invite Terri to enter.

Moving with practiced skill, he shut and locked the heavy door as she moved inside, brushing closely against Gil in the tight quarters.

"Nice," she said softly, and he responded with thanks, although he didn't realize she wasn't only talking about the townhouse's furnishings.

Terri moved into the center of the living room which was now illuminated fully as Gil clicked on the switch for the track lighting.

"Make yourself at home," Gil spoke tiredly as he moved towards the kitchen area.

"Get you something?" he spoke in his most hospitable tone.

"Tea? If it isn't too much trouble," Terri cooed as she sat at the breakfast bar, enjoying the view of a domestic Grissom.

_I could get used to his waiting on me…_

It took a few minutes for the water to boil, and Terri watched amused as Gil rattled on about bare cupboards and takeout menus.

_He's adorable when he's flustered…I seem to have that effect on him…_

Smiling, Terri raised her hand slightly to interrupt his nervous rant.

"Gil…really, it's okay…we can always order takeout, or pick up something on our way to work tomorrow."

Forcing herself to maintain the small grin that suddenly felt forced, Terri's mind idled as she tried to interpret the surprised look on Gil's face.

She watched as he opened and closed his mouth a few times before looking at his shoes and shaking his head briefly as if to loosen a coherent thought.

Finally, "Terri…I'm…sorry…I hoped you understood…"

A quizzical look crossed her forehead to crinkle.

With a small laugh, "Gil…just _what _do you want me to understand?"

Lifting his head and inhaling sharply, Gil gathered his courage and spoke from the heart.

"Terri. I want you to feel welcome here. For as long as you need. It's just that-" he closed his eyes a moment, raising his chin to conclude, "I'm…not…I'm going to stay at the lab until we get this mess straightened out."

In truth, he hoped when he returned to Sara's place that she would offer him a chance to stay with her.

Because suddenly, no place else felt like home…

A feather could have bowled Terri over, but her practiced charm made her shock impossible to perceive.

Instead, "Gil…no…I didn't mean to displace you from your home!...It seems totally unfair…no, please…I wouldn't dream-" she protested without conviction.

She knew he wouldn't dream of sending her away now…in time, perhaps he would even warm up to the idea of sharing his home with her on a more…permanent…basis.

No, now she needed him to believe her presence was totally his idea.

She was very adept at manipulating people to get what she wanted.

And Terri Miller wanted Gil Grissom.

Gil was at her side in a heartbeat.

"Terri, please…I'm insisting. Better here where no one expects you to be. That way you can relax, feel safe."

He looked into her eyes, a protective feeling surging through his body.

He wanted no more attacks on his CSIs.

He was their supervisor, he had an interest in keeping them safe. All of them.

"I_ want_ you to stay here, Terri."

Sheer delight coursed through her veins.

_Take _that,_ Sofia!_

Terri reached out and pulled a nervous Grissom into a hug which lasted just a moment longer than he was comfortable with.

Moving away from him, Terri decided to end the moment and have Gil focus on something other than his ease with her staying in his home.

"As far as clothing…" she mused, turning away to tamper down the exhilaration of Gil's being downright insistent on sharing his space.

"That's easy," he countered, happy for something to do with his hands besides wring them tightly in worry.

"I'm sure you'll fit in some of my t-shirts, my drawstring waist sweats, oh – and here's a bathrobe if you'd uh…if you'd uh, ahem, like to take a shower."

Terri had followed him into his neatly made bedroom, accepting the items as he pulled them from the drawers and closet as she looked on, amused.

_How intimate...wearing his clothing, his robe…guess I won't mention that I always packed a full set of clothing that now resides in the bottom of my locker at the lab…_

Glancing at the bedside clock, Gil was surprised to see that over an hour had passed since he and Terri had gotten back to the townhouse.

He was tiring quickly, the adrenaline rush of rescuing Sara was now taking its toll on his energy level.

_Sara._

He needed to call, to ensure that she was safe…to hear her voice.

Yet he worried about waking her, hoping Brass had insisted that she rest.

Moving through the doorway, unaware that Terri had attempted to engage him in conversation within the intimate setting of his bedroom, Gil was getting anxious as Jim's phone went immediately to voicemail.

Deciding to risk waking Sara, he speed dialed her number, confused when he received a busy signal followed by a prompt to "leave a message".

A debate raged inside his head: _Leave no message_, and she might think he wasn't worried about her. _Leave a message_, and Terri might overhear and take the gossip back to the lab.

_What could he say that was guarded enough to keep his houseguest from discerning _who_ he was phoning, and more importantly, _why_ he was phoning her?_

Reluctantly, he clicked the phone shut without leaving a message, immediately dissatisfied with that course of action.

Slumping forward on the couch cushions, his head rested in the cradle of his hands now supported by his elbows on his knees.

Without warning, his body groaned as long fingers began an expertly executed backrub, applying pressure to his upper back.

Easing the tension in those muscles would keep a migraine away, and although he knew accepting this touch might be difficult to explain away, Gil's tired body forced him to remain for just one minute more…

Gil found his eyes closing, his shape unfolding, causing him to lean back against the cushions of his living room couch.

Somewhere, he registered that closing his eyes for just a moment would not be so irresponsible.

Just for a moment…

In the far reaches of his mind, Gil registered Terri's soft voice very close to his ear.

He almost didn't register the feel the brush of her lips against his right ear, and a second peck on his cheek.

Something she was saying…_shower?_

_Shower…_

_Sara was with me in the darkened bathroom…_

_Brass came…_

_She was going to take a shower…_

_Sara…_

Terri moved away from her perch behind the couch, stealing one more peck on the top of his adorable head.

She grinned as she saw the sleepy smile grace his face, misunderstanding the reason for that smile.

_Yes…a nice long, hot bath in Gil's tub…and then, perhaps a cozy cuddle on the couch while I wear nothing but his robe…and then, perhaps…_

As Terri imagined, disrobed, and ran the warm bath behind the closed door of the spacious bathroom, behind closed eyes Gil's brain registered the sound of running water...

…and an image of Sara bobbing lazily in a luxurious bubble bath.

_Sara…_

The image remained just out of reach, lulling him further into a peaceful sleep.

------------

Right about that time, Sara was stiffly donning her shoes as Sofia continued to sit in the highback chair.

The blonde was insisting without much effort that perhaps Sara should keep her promise that she would be there when Brass returned.

Having listened to Sofia's gossip for the last hour, however, Sara was sure that going to Gil's townhouse would be the only way to rid herself of the feelings of betrayal that now threatened to overwhelm her…


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: This is the second part of the events of the last chapter…another short piece, but I am writing on the fly this week and next…the action moving forward…actions are confusing…plot is thickening…danger is nearing…gotta love an angsty GSR situation…the darkness overwhelms and the light is still far off…but you reviewers and readers remain terrific…all mistakes are mine…more as soon as possible…hope this pleases…SO excited that Sara is coming back this season (and they better not pull a 'we parted as friends' storyline…_or else_… :) -Kathy

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Sofia had wisely insisted that she drive Sara to her destination, inwardly gloating that she was delivering the lamb to emotional slaughter.

Yes, Sofia had "chatted" with Sara about the latest lab gossip, generating enough innuendo to mold Sara's weary focus into an almost irate attention.

Ever the investigator, Sofia mentally catalogued the changes in behavior:

_Sara's mouth_ muffling a groan, no doubt from her blatant disregard for her head and facial injuries which were affected by her head rubbing against the back of the couch, or her hand rubbing over her face in an attempt to keep her emotions in check.

_Sara's limbs_ tightly held against her ribcage, keeping both her old and newly sustained injuries from hurting with the slightest movement.

_Sara's eyes_, her "window to the soul", reflecting torment and disbelief.

Sofia detected the slight tremor in Sara's hands as she reached for her shoes, citing her need to get to Grissom's to "sort out this gossip".

That is how they found themselves on the townhouse doorstep, Sara choosing to knock instead of using the bell so as not to jar Grissom should he be asleep.

If she had been thinking clearly, she would have remembered that he had left her to go to the lab; therefore her assumption that he was asleep in his bed would clearly be in error.

But Sara wasn't thinking straight. Her pain medication had worn off, and she was in pain.

Physically as well as emotionally.

The second knock came as Terri breezed through the living room clad only in the outfit she had assumed with help her cozy up to Grissom, all the way to his bedroom.

Moving swiftly past the sleeping figure, she rushed to the door in an attempt to keep him from awakening before she could join him and put her plan into action.

Peering through the security peephole, Terri grimaced before deciding to up the ante in this game.

Shrugging her shoulders a bit while she loosened the belt holding the oversized robe tightly around her waist, moving it slightly off-center so that bare thigh was visible with no undergarments to be seen.

She glanced downwards and was immediately pleased with the message her attire sent: _we were interrupted._

Swinging the door partially opened, Terri played the part of stunned and nervous to perfection.

Sara could not stop gaping at the view of so much damp, unblemished skin that cascaded down from her perfectly postured shoulders to her creamy-skinned neck down to her model-quality cleavage….to the bare stomach and thighs that seemed hastily covered.

Sofia yawned mentally, knowing that Terri's current state was a bit too convenient to be believable by anyone but the most gullible.

But Sara could only focus on the unmarred beauty of the blonde before her which seemed to taunt her with a subliminal message: _You'll never be able to compete with this beauty._

"Sorry," Terri whispered at last, tugging the edges of the robe a bit tighter around her as she stepped forward onto the stoop.

"Gil's so worn out, I'd rather we not wake him," she continued in a conspiratorial tone.

"Worn...out…" Sara parroted softly, causing Sofia to roll her eyes in Terri's direction.

Terri ignored Sofia, happy with the effect her presence was having on Sara.

Although she couldn't understand the attraction, Terri had worked with CSIs long enough to know when she was looking at incriminating evidence.

And Gil's preoccupation with a certain plain-Jane brunette was a mystery – but if office gossip was to be believed, it was also a definite threat to Terri's plans for the handsome supervisor.

Sofia, while loathe to believe for an instant that in so little time Terri could cover that much ground with the socially inept heartthrob, seemed to sense Sara's discomfort and decided that removing one obstacle to her mission would give her greater leverage in an all-out battle for Grissom's affections.

"You won't mind, however, if we came in for just a moment – kind of check on him ourselves?" she spoke from behind a now mute Sara whose brain failed to heed her demands to reconcile what she was seeing with reality.

Terri and Sofia locked eyes and a temporary truce was understood.

"Just please, don't wake him," Terri spoke softly and urgently as she ushered them in and closed the door quietly behind them.

Sofia stood taking in the view, Terri stood graciously only a few feet inside the door.

Sara moved unsteadily on her feet as if a force beckoned her until she stood in front of an upright sleeping Grissom.

His head was straight back having mussed his hair as previously ran his fingers through his curls as he tried to decide what to do about things with Sara, his strong chin jutted slightly upwards as he dreamed about looming over Sara as she lay prone beneath him.

But Sara had no idea his thoughts remained focused on her.

Instead, _she_ became focused…to the loss of all rational thought…on the trace of lipstick that resided on his right cheek.

Sara's heart stilled in her chest.

Every part of her body now ached either with bumps, bruised, scrapes, burns, skin grafts.

Yet she felt nothing.

Only the sagging despair of betrayal that cloaked her spirit until she was sure she would drown in its depths.

And then…to the surprise of the blonde instigators, Sara stood as tall as possible and pivoted her body until it moved determinedly through the living room to the doorway.

Her movements in such proximity to him caused him to stir from his slumber into the twilight that comes before fully awakening.

His mind's thoughts of Sara became intermingled with the last coherent thoughts that played across his mind before sleep consumed him.

He remembered wanting to be sure Terri was settled before getting back to his Sara.

In the silence of the townhouse now, Gil's eyes remained shut as he raised his hand to lazily scrape across his tired face.

He was unaware that Sara was moving away without sound from this purposely-misinterpreted scene.

Her steps stilled, however, when his sleep-laden voice loudly whispered, "Terri…"

His intent had been to call to his houseguest, assure her that she could make herself at home, and then head out to phone Sara.

But Sara could not know his intent.

Instead, she went with the evidence before her – and her deductions were exactly what this scene's perpetrators had wanted.

Grabbing the keys from Sofia's hand, wordlessly Sara moved towards the entryway.

The sound of the front door flinging open caused Gil to call out as if in a daze, "Who's there?" before sitting up clumsily in time to see Terri and Sofia standing in the foyer.

He would not see his third guest moving as swiftly as possible down the hallway, nor her tears flowing as she backed the Denali out of the parking space.

She wasn't sure just where she was going, but anywhere had to be better than here.

Gil looked puzzled at the sight of Sofia in his townhouse, but before he could question her the cell on the table beeped an incoming message.

Flipping it open, his puzzlement continued as he read a message from Brass that made his brows furrow.

_Called out of town. Sara ok with Sofia. _

Looking past the spot where Sofia stood smiling, Gil spotted the open door and looked at both blondes whose proximity and stance created the air of seductive salt-and-pepper shakers.

"I thought you were with Sara, Sofia?" he asked quickly, the remnants of sleep leaving him to be replaced by worry.

"I was Gil…but…well…" she answered more than a bit self-consciously, wondering for the first time if she had miscalculated his knee-jerk response to their showing up on his doorstep.

"_Where is Sara_?" he articulated coolly, his anger surfacing at the story the evidence was telling him he didn't want to hear.

"Decided to leave, Gil," Terri spoke a bit too matter-of-fact for Grissom's taste.

Brass had warned him in the past of Terri's detached attitude, but at the time he had defended her self-focused nature as expected on one with an artistic temperament.

Her detachment was now clearly not appreciated.

"Wait…" he tried to calm himself, but as he rose he caught a glimpse of his profile in the mirror.

For a moment he tried to imagine what Sara had seen, and the implications of his reflection made Gil shudder.

Whipping around, he demanded of both women, "She was here, and she left…just like that?"

"Yes," came the concordant reply.

"Without waking me or saying a word?" he asked again, more to clear the matter in his head rather than really expect a reply.

"Yes," the blondes replied in tandem.

"Hell," was the only word the two could make out as a string of almost-whispered expletives led the way as Grissom brushed past them and headed towards his car.

Sofia smirked triumphantly at Terri before donning a theatrical expression and running down the steps after him shouting, "Please! Gil! Sara took my car!"

Terri fumed, her angry slamming of the front door barely appeasing her flaring temper.

Swiftly moving towards her purse, she practically ripped it apart gaining access to her cell phone.

As the sounds of two car doors slamming faded in the distance, Terri flipped her phone open and hit a number on her speed dial.

"I need you…_now!_"


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Thanks to all who support this story by reading and reviewing…as I always maintain, this story is moving forward according to the inspiration of these characters…sorry if not everyone is on board with the actions but I welcome your honest comments as long as you realize that I never publish a chapter that isn't personally pleasing to me…and I have to say, reading the end of this chapter brought a smile…all mistakes are mine…more by the end of this week…gotta love GSR…hope this pleases…you are all so terrific! –Kathy

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Sara tried several deep breaths as her head was spinning in a fog of pain, her heart hammering in her chest.

Somewhat painfully, she maneuvered the Denali a bit too wide around a corner, the angry driver waiting for the light to change blasting a car horn and glaring in disgust.

_That was too close,_ Sara reasoned as she slowed her speed and realized she shouldn't be driving in her physical and emotional state.

Glancing nervously at street signs, she realized her position and decided to make her way to the one place she had found welcome in the past.

Arriving at her destination, she was relieved to see signs of activity behind the curtained window.

Painfully, Sara exited the car and headed up the one flight of stairs leading to apartment 2C.

The activity was almost too much for her tired form, and it took quite a bit of energy to just raise her arm and knock on the door.

Sounds of music inside seemed to block out her sound, so she clenched her fist and pounded harder.

Her effort was afforded with the sounds of movement approaching her position on the other side of the door.

"Sara?" Nick smiled, surprise written on this face at the hour of her visit.

"You alone?" he asked as he peered around the corner of the door clumsily, leaning on his crutches.

"Come in, sunshine, it's good to see-" was all he got before Sara rushed him to pull him into a hug.

"Hey, hey, hey, come in, come in now," Nick said quietly, worry overtaking him as he pulled out the embrace long enough to scan his friend for injuries.

Seeing nothing visible, he frowned slightly before pushing her forward while dropping one crutch to lean against her for support.

Taking in her tired appearance, now noting the new bruising and scrapes that were not there at her last visit to him in the hospital, Nick blocked her entrance to his living room area.

"Let's go in here," Nick spoke in his most inviting tone, leading Sara to his bedroom.

Unlike other friends, Nick had a king-sized bed in his master bedroom of his large apartment.

Overfilled with tons of pillows, it served as an oasis of luxury that Nick felt Sara could use to get comfortable and tell him what was going on with her.

Sara was so numb that her mind never even registered a protest while Nick led her to the side of the bed, his soft smile encouraging her to sit back against the inviting plump pillows.

It took a bit of maneuvering, but Nick managed to get himself onto the other side of the bed and move towards Sara, putting his head next to hers on the middle pile of pillows.

Reaching over to pull her hand gently into his, Nick smiled softly as he turned towards her.

"Talk to me, Sara. What's going on, huh?"

Whether it was her fatigue, whether it was her feeling that she had nothing left to lose, whether it was the reassuring tone he used, Sara took a deep breath and realized that once she started, she could not bring herself to stop talking.

Sara found herself telling Nick about what had happened at the scene, and how Grissom reacted at the hospital, ending with how she must have misread Gil's intentions because of what she had uncovered at his townhouse.

Silence followed as a tear ran down her cheek.

She had listened as she spoke about Sofia driving her over and about finding Terri there, and of her heartbreak at listening to Gil speak Terri's name as he slept.

Her heart pounded in her chest.

It took another minute before she realized Nick had not spoken.

Sara glanced up at him, only to find his eyes shut deliberately, his nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply to calm his anger.

She felt relieved that he seemed to be upset, glad to know he would be there to support her.

Nothing prepared her for the stinging glare his now open eyes suddenly sent her way.

"Sara Sidle – you are an ass, you know that girl?"

Sara's mouth flew open, her jaw a bit painful at the motion causing her hand to fly to support the bruised joint.

Immediately, Nick cursed himself for not being more tactful.

His hand reached for her shoulder, glad she didn't immediately pull away from her.

He guided her stunned body back onto the support of the overfilled down pillows, twisting her slightly so that she could look at him while he spoke.

Taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart, Nick tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"Sara…listen."

Another breath.

"Over the years, I have wanted to kick this man's ass so many times when it comes to you.

I've seen him hurt you over and over again, and you've taken it, time and time again.

You were like a yoyo…push me away, Grissom, and I come back for more."

Sara sat quietly just listening, her heart braced to hear recriminations she knew well she deserved.

Nick leaned closer to be sure his words were understood.

"But Sara, I'm sorry honey, this time YOU are way out of line."

Sara's brow furrowed, _how am I wrong here?_

Nick continued after pulling both her hands into his grasp.

"Honey…everything Gil has done the last few weeks…everything…well, you're an investigator…what does the evidence tell you?"

When he was met with silence, he pressed forward.

"Listen, sunshine…I'll tell you what it tells me…everything the man has done in the last few weeks points to one inescapable conclusion: He has finally gotten his head out of his ass. He has finally decided what to do about you, and his feelings for you."

Nick's pointer finger rested softly under Sara's chin before lifting her head to capture her gaze.

"Think about it, Sara. Really THINK."

She couldn't move away, her eyes locked on his demanding an answer.

Tears built up behind her lashes, but Nick would not be dissuaded.

"Everything you told me…was it true? Did it truly happen, the way you said it did? He really did and said all those things?"

Sara could only nod, the slightest movement felt against his still-raised finger.

"Okay…so then he tells you he's leaving, you go to where he says he's going, he's there – yes?"

Again, the slightest nod.

"And then _he tells you_ he wants Terri instead of you. He tells you those words to your face."

Sara spoke softly, "Well, no…"

"Oh, so he wrote you a note telling you he'd changed his mind."

Again, "No…Nick, you didn't see-"

Nick's frustration flared again.

His voice rising as he moved closer to her tearing face, "And that's the point, Sara! _I_ didn't see him choose. And neither did _you_!"

His final statement brought her mind to review the scene at Gil's house – not at the way she remembered emotionally, but the evidence as it played back in her photographic memory.

Nick's silence allowed his words to hang in the air, allowing Sara time to revise her conclusions based on a more impartial review.

Hope swelled in her heart, for the first time she was accepting the fact that she may have been a pawn in a very cruel game orchestrated by Terri.

Still, anxiety tugged at her peace of mind, "But Nick, Sofia was there-"

Nick swore vehemently, adding, "-dammit, Sara…that bitch runs after anything that wears pants."

She looked stunned at his reaction for a moment, causing Nick to burst into chuckles as he rubbed his hand through his hair.

"Guess I'm just not her biggest fan," he murmured loudly, happy to hear Sara's soft, "Ya think?" as they both settled back against the pillows.

Nick grabbed her hand and held it gently, the only sounds in the room the twin inhales and exhales used to settle some very frazzled nerves.

Finally, it was Sara who spoke, "What happens now, Nick?"

Nick loved her, but he knew this was something she had to work out alone.

"I can't help you, darlin'. This is something only you can decide."

After a pause, "Do you love him?"

The question remained unanswered as she spoke, "Look at me, Nick. What chance do I have against tall, blonde, smart, born into money, well-respected in their careers?"

Nick wanted to say that she had something more than either Sofia or Terri, something so down to earth, so _real_, that made every male on the night shift totally enamored of her.

He wanted to wrap his arms around her, to reassure her…and yet he knew that unless Sara Sidle could look into the mirror and see the truth for herself, she could never believe any words he might say in response.

Instead, he repeated his original statement, "Do you _love_ him, Sara?"

This time, he watched sadly as she turned her head towards the ceiling and whispered, "I think I've loved him since the day I first laid eyes on him. Really funny, huh?"

As she finished speaking, she turned her head to look into her friend's eyes.

After a moment, he leaned over and planted a kiss on the end of her nose as he said, "Then don't give up on him, darlin'."

Tears clouded her vision as she gulped and whispered, "I'm afraid he's already given up on me, Nicky."

Her eyes closed on a heavy sigh, and Sara felt Nick speaking close to her ear.

"Take a rest, Sara, you're exhausted. Stay here tonight. Things will be better in the morning."

She really wanted to protest, that she didn't intend to stay her tonight, to tell him she'd be fine, just needed a minute to rest.

But her lips would somehow not move to form the words, and she felt him removing her shoes and the soft warmth of a coverlet being placed over her.

The bed dipped next to her, the sound of a crutch gently hitting the nightstand next to her, the click of a bedside lamp as the cool darkness overcame her, the whirr of the room-size air conditioner as it chilled the pillows which felt so good against the angry scrapes on her cheek and neck.

"Sleep, darlin'. You're safe here. I'll watch over you as you sleep."

Her last conscious thought: _That's what Gil always says…_

It took only a moment for Nick to become assured that Sara was indeed fast asleep.

As he promised, he stayed next to her for the next ten minutes or so, warring with himself as to his next plan of action.

The debate really boiled down to how much he wanted to help this woman whom he had come to love as his friend.

He smiled as he looked at Sara asleep on his bed, sighing as he realized there really was only one thing for him _to_ do.

Pulling himself to stand in a much-practiced move, he used the single crutch to exit the room, turning once to assure himself that the bedside alarm clock gave an adequate glow so that Sara would not be too disoriented if she awoke before he returned.

Gazing at her features at rest, he smiled thinking as he closed the door softly that he needn't worry that she'd awake too soon.

If Nick could be privy to the scenes playing behind her eyelids, however, he might not have been in such a hurry to leave…

_The entire team was in the lab, their second shift was ending and with no more evidence available the specter of a third shift haunted their tired thoughts. _

_Sara's tired form loomed without movement over the bloodied, flame-burnt paths on a bedsheet splayed out across the lighted examination table. _

_She must have been standing there over five minutes, seemingly frozen to the spot as the cloth morphed into a sort of crystal ball with visions of Gil and Terri appearing before her._

_She was lost in thought at the heartbreaking mental theater of Grissom laughing with Terri, leaning forward as crystal champagne flutes clinked before his broad shoulders continued their frontal assault until his large luscious lips linked with the blonde bombshell's beauty, moving across her cheek, down her long neck, downwards, downwards… _

_Sara was pulled out of her agonizing thoughts at the sound of Sofia's shriek landing in close proximity to her upturned ear: "This is not the time for daydreaming, SA-RA!" _

_Embarrassed for being caught and worried that Sofia might guess the subject of her dreaming, Sara lurched back and brought her arms defensively about her midsection. _

"_I-I-I'm not…you d-don't…" she stammered, unable to meet Sofia's gaze. _

"I've_ been working for three shifts straight, without a break, I'm tired and carrying the ball on this case _totally_ by myself," an angry Sofia shrieked, moving menacingly towards Sara._

"_So I understand _plenty_, I work while you are off somewhere having fun!__" Sofia continued, referring to the fact that Sara had been cared for by Grissom after her hospital visit following the second attack._

_Sara, unfortunately, took different meaning to her tirade, worried that Sofia had seen something that confirmed her personal suspicions that Sara was in love with Gil and was humiliated about the embarrassing discovery of Terri now living at Grissom's townhouse. _

_--Did she know how devastated I was to find Terri at Gil's house? Wearing nothing but his robe? Did Sofia join Terri in a good laugh at my expense?_

_--Did she know that Gil had been at my house? Of course, she knows…she's his newest confidant…I bet Gil tells her everything!_

_--Did they all stand around after I left? have a good laugh together?_

_--Did he relate the pathetic details of how he "fondled the poor disfigured girl, giving her at least one more good time to remember?'..._

_--How he just knew she would be willing to "come across" – after all, where else would she be seeing that kind of action with ugly scars like she had?..._

_Sara's nightmare exploded into full force as the combination of misery, fatigue, and insecurities made Sara suddenly spin from her position at the head of the lighted evidence table._

_She moved towards Sofia, her lips now sneering, her eyes wide, wild, and focused._

_Sara looked so menacing, that Sofia's mouth closed and she instinctively moved back a step._

"_You understand nothing. NOTHING!" Sara retorted, and at that moment her breathing turned even more rapid and shallow, and her vision tunneled slightly as she felt rage overtaking her slight form until her very skin pulsed with adrenaline._

_It was suddenly clear that she needed to leave this room, to run away from this place, this job, this town, these people whom she desperately had wanted to bond with and to love like the friends and family she never had. _

_She cursed the day she came to Vegas, she cursed Grissom for making her fall in love with him all over again…and she cursed this blonde before her whose smug smirk deepened the proverbial knife Sara felt Sofia, Terri, and Gil had bludgeoned her with that day._

_She was overwhelmed with this "clarity" that originated from her own nightmare-induced sleep deprivation. _

_There was no longer anything here at the lab for her, there was no longer desire to put up with Sofia and the condescending attitude she purposely sent towards her, and there certainly was no longer hope that perhaps…that there'd be a chance to…a chance for… _

_Waves of pain shot through her entire being, pounded with each aching beat of Sara's heart. _

- because Grissom chose to be with Terri .

_Lost again in her misery, Sara was unaware of an exhausted Sofia nastily regrouping from the temporary halt to her tirade._

_Tired and incensed by the attitude of this woman before her, Sofia found herself unable to stop from continuing her attack, resuming the berating this woman who for years she had viewed as an obstacle between her and Grissom._

_The next nightmarish interactions of these two formidable women occurred in slow motion, sleeping Sara found herself as a silent observer to the horror in which her dream-counterpart became engaged._

_Sofia's tirade continued as she shouted indignities at Sara, who seemed once again to be lost in thought._

_Rage fueling at she felt Sara was ignoring her, Sofia lost her cool completely and grabbed Sara by the upper arm in an effort to spin her around to gain her undivided attention. _

_Unfortunately, Sofia's longer manicured nails dug sharply into the area of the last graft causing immediate punctures and blinding pain. _

_The blonde CSI could not see the damage, however, because of Sara's long sleeved turtleneck. _

_That did not prevent Sara from feeling the pain, however, and instinctively she reacted as if a fireball had once again landed on the site. _

_Trying to move backwards away from the source of pain, Sara's movement only caused Sofia to increase the strength of her grip as she slanted her eyes angrily. _

"_Oh, no…we're going to finish this," Sofia spat as she attempted to move forward. _

_As she could see the sleeves of the turtleneck ripping away from her struggle against the wounding fingernails, pain seared through the area caught in Sofia's grip, and Sara found herself mute with agony, as her free hand moved towards the source of her pain. _

_Sofia opened her mouth to speak, but instead of words a pain-filled cry emitted from her glossed lips as Sara now reacted blindly with techniques she acquired in her weaponless defense training. _

_Having grasped Sofia's hand firmly, Sara felt those nails continue to slice through the thinned skin grafted area on her upper arm as she forcefully removed the injurious grip from the still-healing area. _

_Without thought to her actions, Sara succeeded in removing Sofia's hand from her arm, twisting the palm painfully in two motions: first, upwards and then, back towards the blonde's elbow. _

_The sickening feel of a delicate wrist bone snapping caused Sofia to cry out in pain as Sara released her immediately, eyes wide in burgeoning recognition of what she had just done. _

_The sounds of their scuffle echoed through that corner of the lab, causing Greg and Warrick to race through the corridor in search of the disturbance. _

_What they saw when they rounded the corner made their hearts stop. _

_Sara was standing there, clutching her upper arm which was now covered in a blood-soaked remnants of tattered sleeve. _

_Sofia was slumped tearfully to the floor, holding her wrist in such as way as to suspect it was at least badly sprained and at worst, broken. _

"_Sofia!" _

_The men scurried into the room, angry glances attacking Sara from both sides. _

_Worry immediately overcame her, knowing they would not understand what happened, that they would blame her, for everything…that they would testify in Sofia's favor at the trial…that Ecklie would fire her…that Gil no longer cared what happened to her…that her friends now viewed her as a pathetic lunatic…that she would be left all alone again… _

_As Sofia continued to rock herself in agony, the two men's attention was diverted totally on her momentarily, long enough for Sara to race through the doorway and down the side hallway leading to the locker room. _

"_Sofia? My god, what happened?" Warrick spoke worriedly as he wrapped his arm around her and helped her to stand. _

"_I just was talking to her…" was all Sofia would respond, making Greg glance around the room and frown as he noted Sara was gone. _

"_Shhh…no, Sofia…it was all crazy Sara's fault," Warrick whispered soothingly, anger obviously building towards the person who inflicted these wounds._

"_Sara? Where the hell did she take off to?" Greg was compelled to ask, not liking the possibilities of an answer. _

"_She can't help the way she is," was all Sofia could squeak out before her fatigue and the pain threatened her consciousness. _

"_Never mind her, Sofia. She's not important anymore. We need to get you to the hospital," Warrick insisted, scooping the injured CSI easily into his arms and heading towards the door. _

"_I'll find Grissom," Greg spoke as he followed them through the door, his voice full of innuendo as Warrick nodded. Grissom would know how to take care of Sara, she was going to pay for this! _

_Both men sped off in different directions down the corridor, with a furious Greg continuing to eye each lab in hopes of finding Sara and having the pleasure of dealing with her personally before he had to enlighten Grissom on the little facts he knew about the incident. _

_Meanwhile, Sara could only watch mute and horrified from a distance as her dream self grabbed her keys and purse from her locker, pausing only to grab her vest from its hook before slamming her door and without further thought shoving the uniform item into the open trash can._

_She could never come back here now._

_She had lost everything._

_Wild-eyed and panic-stricken, dream Sara ran to the back exit and fled to her car which seemed farther and farther away no matter how she ran._

_Her feet were like jelly, yet seemed to weigh the same as concrete blocks._

_The darkness seemed to blanket her, her breathing was getting faster, but she couldn't give up._

_Finally getting into her car, she started and engaged without bothering with a seatbelt._

_Her arm bleeding continuing and the excruciating pain was now shooting through her limb, forcing Sara to drive one-handed which made negotiating the turns very difficult._

_Perhaps it was her delirium or her despair that caused her to drive too fast into the dark night…unaware of the car that had followed her from its stakeout position. _

_Soon the dark-windowed vehicle was along side her as she found herself to close to the edge of the windy, high-cliffed roadway._

_Looking over terrified, she gasped as she saw a face pressed against the darkness of the driver's side window, smiling broadly as two rows of yellow teeth appeared through the glass._

_She was being forced to the sidelines, forced to the edge as she wanted to scream out for them to stop…to stop pushing her around…to stop hurting her…_

_Her arms ached as a chill ran through her body, her voice refused to work, her lips felt glued shut._

_Nevertheless, the panic overtook her and she managed to pry her mouth open just enough to emit a low, heart-wrenching moan, "Pll-eeee-easssseee!"_

In the low light of Nick's bedroom, Sara continued to be entrapped in her nightmare as her thrashing had relieved her of the soft coverlet her friend had placed over her.

Her tank top and shorts had slid upwards from over the areas they had been intended to cover, and the chill from Nick's bedroom air condition was causing goosebumps to appear on the limbs.

But as the bedroom door opened quietly, the figure in the doorway stopped his tentative movements upon hearing her distressed wail.

He knew she had nightmares, and from the sound of it she again was imprisoned in her own personal hell.

Within three strides he was alongside her, taking just a moment to size up the situation before moving onto the bed to lie extremely close to her quivering form.

His eyes grew sad as he looked into the contortions of terror on her scarred face, still beautiful despite the bruising and scratches she had recently endured.

He moved even closer to her, wrapping a muscular arm tightly around her, hoping his comfort was palpable enough to reach even her dream world.

His lips moved towards her ear as he began to whisper softly, "Sara? Sara, I'm right here, honey…I've got you…you're safe…I'll watch over you…"

Somewhere in her dream state, she could hear him calling for her, reaching out to her.

It was as if she could feel him wrapped around her.

Sara's movements stilled as she felt the car, the cliff, the danger simply evaporating before her.

This nightmare had been the worst in a long while.

Her eyes remained closed while the memory of her living nightmare returned in the confusion of awakening awareness to her surroundings.

_He didn't want me. He'll never love me. And…I just don't know what I'm going to do now…_

A shaky sob began to quietly escape her despairing form, but immediately morphed into a startled intake of air as Sara's unbelieving eyes opened and found herself staring into worried blue ones.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Posting with my coat on, heading out for the weekend...all mistakes are mine...thanks to all you terrific readers and especially reviewers...the plot is moving forward...next chapter as soon as I can...hope this pleases....-Kathy

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They stared silently at each other, words forgotten as hearts spoke through unblinking gazes.

Finally, "Why – why are you here?"

His eyebrows furrowed. _How can you ask me that?_

Sighing, "Sara-"

Sensing he was becoming tense, she sifted in his grasp but felt him holding her tighter.

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply before saying, "I'm so confused."

His right hand released her only to move to her face, cradling her cheek softly before responding, "That's the best place for a scientist to be."

Her neck twisted her face towards him, causing his hand to fall and now gently cradle the scarred flesh on the side of her neck.

Her eyes had flown open only to find him closer looking at her with a soft smile.

_He remembered…_

A flash of them standing outside the morgue as she pleaded for him to explain how he could so easily move on from the Kaye Shelton abuse case before they had gotten justice for the victim.

Reflexively, a small lift in the corner of her mouth as she recalled him speaking those words before revealing that he was indeed busy but not with a new case, having recalled Kaye's body for reexamination.

It was a memory Sara treasured, as upon reflection she was sure he had pursued it to a successful end because he knew this victim was important to her.

Sara looked up now into the anxious eyes of this man who had stolen her heart years ago.

…_the best place for a scientist to be…_

…_scientists review the evidence…_

…_review the evidence…_

As if reading her mind, Gil spoke softly as his fingers softly ran over the scarred skin of her neck, over her shoulders, and now traced a path over her bruised and darkened arm.

"Honey…I don't know what happened at the townhouse…why you left…"

Having been frantic when leaving his house, he barely recalled Sofia joining him as he had raced to Sara's apartment.

Finding her assigned parking spot empty, he had sped towards the lab in hopes that Sara would have gone there.

Cursing as he had pulled in and not seeing her vehicle, he left a surprised Sofia exiting his Denali as he all but ran into the building, first stopping to ask Judy if he'd seen Sara and then moving towards the morgue while flipping open his phone to call in Brass.

In the anxious moments when he had not idea of her whereabouts, Gil had replayed the scene that had played out before his sleep-tinged eyes.

_What had happened to cause Sara to run from me?_

_I opened my eyes to see Sofia smiling that irritating, all-knowing smile, _

_Terri leaning against the wall, arms wrapped around her as they rested across the belt of my robe…_

_Oh, lord…_

The geek mind meld that others had often teased them about was activated, causing them both to relive the same memory simultaneously.

Unlike Sara, however, Gil moved swiftly to hover over her until his face was almost touching hers.

"Oh, god, Sara…no…NO!...it wasn't like that…not at all…honey, please…" he needed her to believe him.

He noticed her hesitation.

She wanted to believe him, wanted so hard for him to dispel these doubts…but the lipstick…if it wasn't for the smudge gracing the side of his lips, his cheek…

Before she could muster another thought, his lips crushed down on hers, his hand moving behind her neck to pull her towards him.

This kiss did not speak of romance, however.

It spoke of his need for her, his wanting to fill her with a desire for him that matched his own.

She felt his hand move slowly into her hair as they broke apart for the length of a breath before he moved back to claim her again and again until she could not form a coherent thought.

She was lost in his touch, the firm pressure of his lips as his tongue pressured hers for entrance, her body willing to forgive him anything if he would just stay here like this forever…forgive him anything…

Pulling back to slow things down, Gil pressed his forehead against hers as he licked his lips and fought for control over his growing need for her.

"Sara…I don't know what you think happened, what you saw-"

His words ceased as he saw the anguish in her brown depths.

"You, Sara…I want you…_only you_…"

His body ached to feel her beneath him, yet he held his gaze and drew a breath while waiting for her reaction to his pronouncement.

He never expected the laugh that emitted from her cynical smile.

"Me?"

This time when she pushed at him, he retreated immediately allowing her to pull herself to a sitting position against the headboard.

Looking at him proved difficult, but Sara forged ahead knowing her life would change based on the outcome of this discussion.

She loved him, god knows she did, but it was time to ease away before he found himself rashly committing himself to the idea of loving her – and breaking her heart when he became faced with the reality of living with someone as scarred as she would remain.

"Gil," she hesitated briefly, "it's meant a lot to me…having you here…drawing on your strength when I needed it the most."

She raised her eyes to catch his unreadable expression, but she forged ahead.

"But I have to do this on my own…figure this out…I'll…I'll always appreciate all you've done for me-"

"Sara," Gil almost sighed, his impatience noticeable.

"No, really, Gil…I think…I think perhaps it would be best…for you…if we just didn't see each other for a while-"

"No, Sara," he was shaking his head, softly.

"I'll finish this case…then maybe just take some of that vacation time I've stored up," she hurried on, almost as if in negotiation.

"_No, _Sara," he said a bit louder, reaching out to her only to find her pulling away from him.

"It's for the best, Gil…_really_…can't you _see _that?" she almost implored him, getting more confused as to why he wasn't listening to her.

She was not prepared for his strong hands to grip her upper arms as he almost yanked her towards him.

"I. Am. Saying. _NO…SARA!"_

His actions left her speechless, her eyes riveted to his piercing glare.

"You are _it _for me, Sara…you always have been….I-…I-…"

Gil paused as he took in her somewhat frightened form, immediately releasing her from his vice grip realizing he was the cause of her discomfort.

"Honey…I'm sorry…are you okay?" he almost pleaded, scanning her arms for additional bruising.

When she did not reply, his eyes flew to her face which now was suddenly ashen as if shock had settled in.

"Sara? Honey?" he spoke softly as he moved closer.

Her eyes focused on his, a tear forming that she refused to shed.

She had promised herself she was done crying over what had happened to her, tired of feeling out of control; she had worked her whole life to maintain control…

But Gil had grabbed her in the same way her attacker had done scant hours ago, and she had been working hard to keep that memory suppressed…until now when he grabbed at her and used the same angry tone…._pretty girl…_

"Please, Sara…" Gil spoke softly as he pleaded, worry flooding him as he wondered why she had not spoken.

She surprised herself as she looked downcast when the words came out softly, but unemotionally, as if she were relating the details of a case file.

"I heard a noise behind me as I was surveying the back of the house. I turned around and started towards the thicket that lined the property.

I raised the maglite, though I could see the glow of the moonlight through it I scanned to the left, and when I brought it back…" her voice trailed and shook a bit.

Sara cleared her throat, determined to make him understand.

"I couldn't see the skylight anymore, and then I felt him," her breathing picked up dramatically and Gil instinctively took her hand, holding on to her tightly.

"He grabbed me, tried to pull me through the thicket…towards him…he wouldn't let go…" she choked, slamming her eyelids tightly together as if to prevent the perpetrator from returning to her sight.

"Did you see him, honey…did you recognize him?" Gil asked, desperate to get any information that might help apprehend this fiend.

"It was …him," she spoke quietly, almost afraid to say the words for then they would ring true.

"Who, honey? Did you know this guy?" he asked in confusion.

Sara looked at him with worried eyes.

"He was the same- the same man who…who…"

Now tears did flow unchecked as Sara tried to move away from Gil, the images of her kidnapping and rape threatening to overwhelm her.

"Tell me, Sara, please…let me help you, honey…please…who did this to you?"

Her shoulders shook as she tried to rein in her fear, "He raped me…"

Now, Gil was very confused. When he had seen her fighting off Hank at the crime scene, there was no mention of her being violated that way.

Intent on getting the information he needed, Gil moved further onto the bed until he invaded Sara's personal space.

"The man last night…he was there at…at the fire?...where I found you?" his voice was quiet but insistent.

All Sara could do was nod her head, her voice no longer capable of producing sound as the feeling of dread from her experience washed over her.

Gil's brow tightened noticeably.

How could this be?

He recalled every detail of that harrowing night when Nick had been injured and Sara had been kidnapped and burned.

He had run into the house just as Sara was writhing on the floor in pain from her burning clothes which with his own eyes he had seen the perpetrator set afire before bursting into flames himself.

He had watched the man die a horrible death, _as he deserved for hurting my Sara._

Synapses were firing at amazing speeds as his brain tried to reconcile what he had seen with what Sara was telling him.

Finally, one inescapable conclusion caused him to direct a question to Sara that he almost didn't want answered.

"Sara…when you were -…when he- _hurt _-you…is it possible…that there was someone else in the house with him?"

Sara remained quiet, although he could feel her trying to remember.

"Did you hear anything, see anything, that might make you suspect he was not alone?"

Again, quiet for a while until she finally whispered, "He threw me to the floor, and put a blindfold on me…"

Shuddering now, Sara was shaking her head as if she were beginning to relive the experience.

"I screamed…kept on screaming…" her voice cracked, lifting her eyes as she surprised herself with the next admission, "I- I was screaming…for you…"

Gil reached out and clutched her hands even more tightly, her body language screaming for him not to touch her just yet.

Silently waiting for her to regain her composure, his anger flaming as one fact became crystal clear to him.

When they found this guy, he was going to kill him with his bare hands.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: This chapter focuses on GSR with the return to the action at the lab in the next chapter…I just felt they needed a bit more time together…readers and reviewers alike are so appreciated… the close of this chapter brought a smile to my face…hope it pleases you as well…more as soon as possible…remember this chapter was rated M for a reason… you people are really terrific… -Kathy

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When the soft knock on the bedroom door was heard a while later, Gil tightened his hold on a sleeping Sara.

He had held her and kissed her softly as she cuddled against him, drawing strength from his actions.

For the first time since the incident, she was sleeping soundly as nightmares took an unexpected holiday.

Nick's head darted through the opening, a soft smile for the intimate scene quickly vanishing as he noted Grissom's expression.

The tight jaw, the fixed stare into space that did not morph into a gentler gaze as he spun his eyes towards the intruder…

Gil Grissom was fuming.

Now, an angry Grissom is a sight that will make the beholder weak in the knees and scrambling for cover.

Nick only remembers seeing him this upset twice in all the time he had known this usually reserved criminalist.

Once, Grissom had found the body of a missing baby on a golf course. Afterwards, the team knew to make themselves available when their supervisor needed information, and scarce during the time in between updates.

_This_ was the other time.

Knowing what Sara had been like when she arrived, Nick had decided she needed the kind of comfort he was unable to provide.

That was when he decided to call Grissom.

Not knowing exactly the reception his plea would receive, Nick had called Brass to convince Gil to come quickly– and, as fate would have it, at that exact moment Grissom had been in Jim's office frantically interrogating his friend about ideas of Sara's whereabouts.

Seeing his best friend now cradled in Grissom's embrace, Nick could finally take a deep breath in knowing he had made the correct choice in helping Sara.

Knowing it was best not to engage his boss now in conversation, Nick remained at the half-opened doorway.

"You need anything, boss?" came his quiet words, not wanting to startled Sara awake as he was happy to see her at rest.

At first there was no response. Finally a deep exhale.

"Thank you, Nick. I'm fine…now."

Understanding bloomed in the few seconds their eyes locked.

Nick twisted in place as he moved to close the door with his free hand.

Grissom turned his attention back to Sara, combing his fingers through her hair with a feathery touch.

If anger had surged through him at the thought of their dead perpetrator hurting her once, now his thoughts were wild as he imagined there was someone still out there stalking her.

His eyes narrowed as he promised her softly, "I'll watch over you, Sara. You're safe with me."

At that, Gil decided Sara would never truly be safe as long as that maniac was on the loose.

He remembered their initial meeting in the breakroom where they had first looked over the first crime scene.

He recalled assigning Terri to discerning whether the flashpoint images burned into the surviving trees could definitively testify to two people standing before the flames.

Images raced before his tired eyes, the horror of that night playing like a horror flick inside his weary eyelids.

Gil tightened his hold on Sara as he felt the need to take her home, lock the doors, and hide away with her to ensure her safety.

Perhaps it was his unconscious increase in the pressure of his grasp, the racing rhythm of his heartbeat as she rested against it, or the sudden tension in his muscular frame.

Sara's eyes blinked open slowly, taking in her surroundings as understanding dawned on her weary face.

"Hey," he spoke softly, a loving tone easing her initial apprehension.

She didn't speak, instead turned her eyes upward to stare into his.

Something was different about him, he seemed to be wrestling with something, and she wondered if he might be changing his mind about them after her recent disclosure.

Her fears were instantly allayed, however, as he bent forward to kiss her softly three times as he had in the hospital, his lips meeting hers with a brush, then a caress, and finally an eager pressure to deliver his message when words seemed inadequate.

Smiling slightly as he pulled away: "Let's go home, hmm?"

Sara wanted to ask him exactly where "home" was, having not had a place she could really say _felt_ like home since as long as she could remember.

After saying their goodbyes to Nick, Gil kept Sara close to him as they descended the stairway towards his vehicle.

Gil opened the door and almost hoisted Sara onto the passenger seat before reaching across her to buckle her seatbelt.

This put him in close proximity to her face, and he smiled as he felt her lips curving softly.

"Thank you…Gil…" she breathed and instantly he was lost in those dark depths, feeling himself pulled to kiss her hard, lost in the sweetness of her essence.

Pulling away with difficulty, his eyes raked over her face, and again he had to fight back the urge to drive out into the desert, not to stop until they were far away from the danger that hovered over them.

He drove with intense attention to the road, and once again Sara couldn't help but glance in his direction for a long time before speaking.

"Talk to me, Gil," she asked sweetly, her voice a part wonder laced with some worry.

He inhaled deeply, wondering how he could explain his feelings when he couldn't make sense of them for himself.

Pulling into the parking area in front of the townhouse, Gil sat unmoving as his hands increased their death grip on the wheel.

Finally, "Do you trust me?"

Without hesitation, she reached forward and laced her fingers through his as he somewhat released his grip on the steering wheel.

"With my life."

She had meant it to be a declaration of her faith in him, so she was surprised to see a flash of anguish in his eyes.

Gil turned away from her harshly and threw his door open. Within a few determined strides, he was at her door.

Without a word, he reached in to undo her belt and without warning found herself scooped up into his strong, secure embrace.

He headed them towards the front door of his townhouse, releasing her only to slide his key into the lock and move them inside before turning to lock the door and secure the alarm.

Standing at the edge of the foyer, Sara twisted to take a look at the dimly lit interior. Her thoughts raced at being here, and were muddled further when he whispered softly into her ear, "Follow me."

Taking her hand possessively, he moved confidently through the dimly lit hallway until they were gliding past his king-sized bed and were entering his en suite bathroom.

Pulling her in front of him until they faced the half-wall polished mirror, Sara could feel him opening and closing drawers and closet doors as he placed soap, washcloths, and towels on the marble counter before her.

Without a word, he flicked a switch near the entryway, and instantly the room was flooded with the strains of a piano concerto. Another flip of an adjacent switch caused the motor in the skylight to open a shading device enough to admit a softer glow from above.

There was more light now than in the dark bathroom area they had shared what seemed like a lifetime ago, yet the limited lighting encased their reflected figures in an almost romantic glow.

"Sara," he whispered softly as he pulled back her hair to reveal her lily white neck, "trust me?"

She could only nod, overcome with emotions that only this man could stir within her.

Moving so cautiously, as if she were a piece of finest china – beautiful yet delicate - he turned her to face him.

Reaching behind her, he moved his arms around her and sought out the water controls which he allowed to run until they were heated yet not hot.

Filling the basin with watery warmth, he clicked open the liquid body soap and poured a bit onto a wet washcloth before moving away from her to gently wash her tired face.

The heated cloth, mixed with his most tender ministrations, caused Sara to close her eyes and sigh.

Gil's lips curved slightly as he moved the cloth over her brow, eyes, cheeks, chin, and neck.

Leaning himself full force against her, he ran warm water over the cloth and returned to rinse her delicate skin of the softly-bubbled cleanser.

Dropping the washcloth on the counter, he reached for a fluffy bath towel and returned to wipe dry the areas he had cleansed.

Once dry, he pinned her once more against the counter; this time it was his lips that ministered to those same spots.

Gentle, loving kisses landed over skin damp from washing, and perhaps from the heat that was beginning to rise from her depths.

Gil continued his silent ritual, music swelling and ebbing in the background, and Sara was lost in the moment.

He moved his hands as his eyes steadied her with his gaze, pulling at the edges of her tank top as he yanked them carefully upward until she was revealed before him.

Maintaining eye contact, he moved in again and again to soap, wash, rinse; his eyes moved from hers only when he kissed the angry skin of the burned areas of her neck, arms, and torso.

Sara felt lost in his touch, his sensual kissing and nipping almost her undoing.

He removed her bra with an unpracticed snap, his hands moving back suddenly to allow the silky garment to fall unaided to the floor.

His eyes feasted at her form, moving in to repeat the ritual.

The slow strokes of the now lukewarm water caused small goosebumps to appear across her breasts, and Sara could no longer distinguish if they were from the sensation of the cooling water or from the lustful look that had morphed into his glare.

His lips were like balm to her straining nipples, and all rational thought was lost to her.

It wasn't until his hands moved past her abdomen to the next targeted wash area that suddenly flashes of her ordeal made her suddenly anxious.

Sensing a change in her mood, Gil pressed her against the cabinet firmly as he stood and brought his lips back to hers in the reassuring trilogy of kisses.

"Trust me, honey," he breathed heavily into her ears as he began again to fondle her naked upper body.

Once the tension had vanished, Gil's hands began their downward progression once again, moving the elastic from her waistband slowly until both undergarments and shorts were halfway down her hips before he felt her tense again.

Again, he stopped and again the kisses and the endearments were followed by the fondling and the slow progression of his hands until she was comfortable enough this time to allow him to remove the last vestige of clothing.

He knelt before her, and passed the almost chilled washcloth over her thighs, not allowing himself to touch her most intimate part.

Fluffy towel barely made contact with her legs as he rubbed first one, then the other using a downward motion on the outside followed by a languid trek upwards on her inner thighs.

Sara's eyes were closed as her mind's eye followed the path of his kisses which now traced the abandoned towel's paths.

Suddenly, he stood and kissed her wildly, the pressure of his tongue as it begged for admittance before ravishing her mouth was her undoing.

Pulling away briskly, he moaned against her lips, "Sara….trust me?"

He stood still as his body kept her pinned against the counter, he breathing heavily and she almost faint from the pressure of his longing against her thighs.

Finally, she brought her gaze to his and in a small voice admitted, "I'm not…I don't think I can…"

His lips caught hers again and again, a silent plea for trust, a quiet confirmation that he was totally committed to pleasing her.

Without another comment, her hands came up to either side of his head, and as he pulled away her gaze gave him the permission he was seeking.

Her hands stayed lightly splayed across his cheeks as her eyes followed him as he kissed his way down to the last area of his attention.

Somehow, the cleansing ritual was in his mind symbolic of wanting to wash away all the hurt of her defilement, wanting to free her of her anxiety about the current state of her beauty, wanting to mark her as his own.

So when he reached his destination, Sara pushed her hands to gently graze through the tops of his curls, needing to do something to quell the specters that were increasing her anxiety.

This was the first time a man would have touched her intimately since her rape, her internal areas were still healing and therefore she was unable to fully consummate a relationship.

Her worry about being unable to please him began to gnaw at her, and she pulled on his hair causing him to stop his hands before the now cold cloth came in contact with her most violated parts.

"Gil," she gulped, "my stitches-" she bumbled awkwardly, words of explanation failing her as she worried about failing him.

Gil turned his head and captured a hand that nestled in his hair, placing a kiss on it before smiling reassuringly back at her.

"Sara…this isn't about me tonight…please…trust me…"

And without further discussion, his hands moved in tandem upwards from their starting point inside her thighs, pushing them apart until Sara had to move her feet slightly outward.

His head now fully facing her womanhood, Gil could feel his pulse race as for the first time he visually inspected the area's bruising and healing scars.

He moved the washcloth slowly from front to back, not wishing to irritate the tender skin which had been roughly shaven in the hospital, the hair removal only to be haphazardly finished by a tearful Sara upon her discharge.

Gil could see the indentations of the healing scars, and his mind processed the scene before him as if he were investigating the case.

An irregularly shaped, sharp-edged object had been drawn across this area leading inward, and his mind seized with possibilities that were at once too horrible to imagine.

He was sure he couldn't look at her right now without wanting to sob for the ordeal to which this strong woman had been subjected.

He only hoped she had been drugged or unconscious at the time.

Anger swirled his being, this time directed at himself for not being there to protect her from this monster.

A tear slid down his cheek, but Sara could not see it as she had since closed her eyes tightly against what she was afraid would be his impending rejection.

Imagine her surprise when she felt the smooth fluff of the terry cloth replaced by the feathery touches of his smooth lips.

She found herself leaning forward as his head moved into the space afforded by her parted legs, kissing each healing scar and bruise that decorated her offended area.

Sara actually found herself relaxing against the swell of the latest music filling the room, her eyes closed as she clenched her hands in his hair as if she needed something to hold her firm lest she float away on the cusp of her arousal.

His lips finishing their silent worship, Sara drew a sharp breath as the tip of his tongue ran over her most intimate spot, lazing upwards until it reached a rough-shaven border before he removed it from her skin only to begin again at the most intimate origin.

Gil's hands moved of their own accord, rising behind her to her firm backside as he kneaded gently the softer skin there until his hands were pulling her forward as his tongue lashed backward, again and again until he could hear her breathing become heavier.

Smiling inwardly, he continued to hold back his passion as he wanted nothing more than to pull her down to the floor and enter her sharply, spilling his need for her as he pounded into her wildly.

Instead, his smile came from the fact that she trusted him enough to begin their long journey that would eventually lead to their coupling…but that would be at a future time, when healing – both physically and emotionally – had taken place.

That thought was ripped from him as suddenly Sara threaded her hands tightly into his curls, helping to propel him further towards her as she shuddered and let out a slightly painful cry, "Gil!"

Her words were not the only indication of her climax, and he loosened his grip on her backside, but continued to lick more gently often interspersing a kiss amongst his movements.

Finally, he turned his head against her abdomen and held her close, whispering, "Sara…my Sara…" as she wrapped her hands behind his head and held him close.

When a few moments of clarity returned to them both, Gil stood with creaking knees until he was flush against her as he gazed into her eyes.

"Time for sleep?" was all he could think to ask, a small grin occupying his face as he looked into her own small smile because he knew he bore a major responsibility in placing it there.

Leaving the toweling where it lay, he exited the bathroom to give her a moment to freshen up before coming to bed.

Expecting that he would have laid out something to sleep in, Sara was surprised to find him clad only in boxers, empty-handed and waiting for her as he led her under the covers.

Wrapping his arms around her, she moved into his warmth and within moments she was almost asleep.

Without warning, she shot straight up and turned to look at him.

His initial worry was replaced by surprise as she all but lunged at him and kissed him in a way that curled his toes.

Pulling away, Sara found she could not utter a word, but hoped her actions would let him know just how special he had made her feel tonight.

He cupped her face tenderly in his hand and felt her lean into it as he whispered, "My beautiful Sara."

Those were the last words spoken aloud, although their body language as they curled up together in the comfort of his bed continued to speak volumes.

At this moment in time,

with the memory of his carefully executed lovemaking,

and the way he was holding her close to him at this very minute,

Gil made her feel protected and ..loved …

"_My beautiful Sara"_

His words ran through her mind as she quickly drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

And at this very moment,

she could actually believe she was…


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Wanted to post this chapter before heading out to a family event at the end of this 'been away using a borrowed computer' week, but the server here seemed to be down…the story is twisting a bit, hope you're paying attention to clues because things aren't always as they seem…not time to reread, so all mistakes are mine…thanks again and again to those terrific YOUs who are reviewing or just reading, you are so appreciated…more as soon as possible…hope this pleases (although some groaning IS anticipated)…-Kathy

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Gil's light slumber was interrupted again by the errant movements of Sara's arms as she began to fight yet another nightmarish demon.

The second time since they'd drifted off, initially peaceful as they snuggled together in his comfortable bedding, the visions that haunted her about her kidnapping had begun to break through the security of his tight embrace.

Soothing her with whispered declarations of love and safety, she quieted – causing a depth of male pride Gil had not experienced before this moment.

Sara empowered him, made him feel like crowing (if he'd admit that fact), left him feeling invincible.

She was his world, and he found himself totally in control of that little piece of heaven on earth.

He had the power to make her smile, to protect her from her dreamland demons…

His face snarled suddenly and he tightened his hold a bit on this woman whom he loved more than life.

_But can I really protect her from the present danger that stalked her?_

After a few moments more, Gil eased himself out of bed, his insecurities about preventing more horrors from crossing Sara's path were plaguing him.

He pulled sweatpants from the drawer without creating a sound, and headed towards his en suite bathroom to dress.

Turning after the door shut without a click, the sight before him brought out manly pride as he looked at the disheveled mess of a beauty splayed out across his bed.

Sunlight was starting to stream through the skylight, illuminating the counters and floor where the bathing implements lay haphazardly discarded during their lovemaking.

He picked up the towel with a smile, in fact almost grinning as he replaced the other items back into their storage space.

Moving towards the hamper in the corner, Gil was brought out his reverie as his foot depressed the leather foot pedal.

Having raised the toweling to drop it into the near-empty depths of the container, he froze.

_Shit! Oh, shit!_

His heart raced as his limbs remained suspended, his hands clamping onto the damp cotton in his grasp.

His eyes snapped to the antique clock perched on the hollowed out wall shelf.

He heard a groan pass his lips as his eyes returned to the interior of the hamper.

A discarded blouse and vest mocked him from the depths of what should have been an empty laundry bin.

_Terri._

How had he forgotten?

In his haste to find Sara, he had completely blanked out the fact that he had given Terri Miller the keys to his place as hers had been destroyed.

Finding these articles of clothing must mean she had showered and found a change of clothes.

_That was what had driven Sara away…Terri wearing his robe…_

He closed his eyes in thanksgiving, rejoicing in the fact that she now understood nothing had happened between him and his houseguest.

But he was beginning to discern that Sofia bringing Sara here to discover Terri in a compromising situation may just have been no accident.

Promising himself to get to the bottom of that situation at another time, Gil tossed the damp towels on top of Terri's clothing – out of sight, out of mind.

Again glancing at the clock, he realized shift would be just about ending.

Stealing through the doorway soundlessly, Gil needed to get to his kitchen and make a few calls.

Grabbing his slacks from their haphazard pile on the floor, he treated himself to another moment of just watching his Sara at rest – satisfaction spreading through him at the slight smile that tugged at her luscious lips – as he headed towards the door.

Having succeeded in leaving without waking her, Gil strode purposefully towards the kitchen.

Hitting the speed dial, he sighed in agitation during the three rings before he heard the voice almost drowned from the lab activity surrounding it: "Brass…"

"Jim…I need a favor."

Knowing that Gil had run out of his office much earlier that night following Nick's call, his chest tightened a bit as he answered, "Is she alright?"

Unable to stop the flush of male pride that continued to surge within him, Gil took a deep breath and breathed out, "She's fine."

A smile broadened the captain's face. _Why you old dog, you…_

Confident he was reading the situation correctly, Jim chuckled but knew better than to tease his old friend who seemed more confident now than he'd ever heard him before.

"How can I help you?" Brass asked, biting his tongue at all the double entendres that begged for release.

"Where is Terri right now?" Gil asked before giving the detective any reason.

Brass' face warped into a scowl so quickly his cheeks hurt.

"What are you playing at, Grissom?" he said almost heartlessly.

Gil was at first taken aback by the question, then realized Jim did not understand the situation.

"I need to you to find her, fast…and keep her at the lab until…" his voice drifted off suddenly, leaving a long moment of dead air over the phone lines.

_Until what? What can I tell him? "Until I get Sara out of my bed before Terri comes back and makes a scene?"_

Having risen through the ranks from his original position as head of the graveyard CSIs, Jim breathed out slowly as the evidence before him left its inevitable conclusion.

_Well, well, well…_

Rising from his seat in the Trace Lab, Jim began moving towards the break room.

"I'll take care of it. How much time do you two need?"

Gil couldn't prevent a smile forming on his lips, shaking his head at the speed with which his friend had understood his dilemma.

"I'll call you, Jim…perhaps within the hour?" Grissom sounded hopeful.

Again his smile reached his voice as Brass spoke, "Take your time, buddy…and hey…look out for our girl, will you?"

_With my life, _Gil thought but merely conveyed his thanks before ending the call and moving a bit more quickly to the bedroom, scanning the route for evidence that Sara had been here.

He wanted to leave nothing that would begin the gossip mills from festering as he now understood Sara's need for privacy and normalcy more than he had before their intimate encounter.

It was, he reflected as he turned the knob to enter and watched her so peaceful, in _his bed!_, as if that tenuous bond that had kept them in orbit around each other had now merged them into one mind, one soul – one heart.

And he was determined to let nothing ever harm her again.

Slipping into bed beside her, Gil tucked in her silken strands which had strayed across her sleeping eyelids as he lay a soft kiss to her temple, breathing in the her unique scent.

She looked so rested, so peaceful – so loved.

His fingers trailed down the side of her cheek, her lily white skin inviting another kiss.

It wasn't until he moved her hair back further that the rough edges of the angry scars became visible.

His gaze ran from her neck to her shoulder, causing him to pull back the covers to visually inspect her arms which, when tucked in as they were across her abdomen, hid the devastation almost from view.

He gulped with difficulty, his pain evident as he marveled at all she had endured.

He loved her.

He knew that now without hesitation.

Having touched the disfigured skin with such intimacy, he realized last night he'd barely noticed the wounded areas as his interest had been focused on releasing the feelings he had harbored for this woman over the years.

"This," he spoke softly, running his finger gently down her arm, "means nothing to me, honey."

"I love _you_, Sara. The rest…the rest doesn't matter, honey. I love _you._"

His words caused her to stir, but this time he did not retreat.

His smile greeted her upon opening her eyes, and was returned slightly before she muttered sleepily, "Griss? Is everything okay?"

All he could manage was a smile and a nod before bringing her to himself and cuddling her closely.

For the first time in their relationship, he knew everything was going to be okay between them.

-----------

Meanwhile, a tired Terri Miller was having a slight fit about her inability to leave the lab.

"Listen, Brass, I have a key to Gil's place. He _wanted_ me to stay there. So explain to me _exactly _why I'm not able to leave the lab yet?"

Hating the only option available to him, Jim coughed and said, "Hey! What can I tell you? He called and asked you to wait for him here."

THAT explanation brought on a large smile and heavy intake of breath.

"Oh…well…of course I'll wait for him, as long as he wants…" Terri smiled salaciously, causing Brass' stomach to turn slightly.

"I'll just go find Sofia and tell her I'll finish up with that paperwork while I…wait…for Gil…"

As she headed down the hallway swaying with practiced motions, Brass just shook his head and worried about what the next few hours would bring…

--------

As expected, Sofia refused to take "orders" from Terri, and stubbornly refused help in finishing the paperwork related to the latest stalled investigation of the serial arsons.

She might have regretted that decision, however, when she left her desk and moved into the hallway only to spot Gil leading Sara into the lab.

Her eyes narrowed as she noticed his hand resting on the small of her back, and the smile in his eyes as he responded to Sara's upturned gaze as she beamed at him before turning back to move slightly ahead of him.

To make matters worse, at that moment Terri appeared out of nowhere and glided past the now still CSI in what Sofia would only classify as moving like a Death Eater from a Harry Potter movie she had recently seen on tv.

And in her mind, the comparison would not stop there.

Gil could see Sara's shoulders tense visibly at the sight of Terri, but was unprepared for the sight that greeted them.

She was wearing one of Gil's shirts, tucked and tied attractively, looking more like a beach model in her form fitting black slacks and slightly revealing neckline that exposed the silky white skin of her lovely neck.

Brushing past Sara, Terri insinuated her way between Gil and his love, placing her hand on his muscular forearm before beginning, "Oh, Gil…I was getting so concerned….about you…"

Heedless as he had been, Terri's actions now were abundantly clear to him now.

Moving her hand surely down his arm until he was fully released, he merely nodded and said, "Terri, sorry to make you wait. You must be tired. The townhouse is free now, if you'd like to get some rest."

Smugly, she lowered her eyelashes flirtatiously before continuing, "I'm ready to go…whenever you are."

Her countenance changed abruptly when Jim suddenly appeared behind her and said, "Hey! Great! My car's right out front."

Shaking her head to clear it, Terri's confusion did not clear as Brass turned to Sara with a warm smile and asked softly, "Hey, kiddo…you doin' okay?"

This time when Sara responded, "I'm fine, thanks," Jim actually could believe it.

By this time, however, Sofia had reached her fill of the entire scene.

Pushing past the door to the locker room, she silently fumed as she slammed her own locker's door and moved to leave the lab for a few hours.

_APPARENTLY, the only way to get Gil Grissom's attention is to become a VICTIM! _

She sighed as she pondered how it would feel to have the object of her obsession fawn all over her instead: _my knight in shining armour…_

--------------

Gil had brought Sara to the lab to collect any new evidence in the arsons, which now were the only case with which the graveyard shift was concerning themselves.

He allowed Sara time alone to collect some of her things from the locker while he familiarized himself with the latest findings.

His anxiety grew with each passing moment, not wanting to let her out of his protective sight.

What felt like hours, though in reality hadn't been more than fifteen minutes, Sara emerged in the doorway and he finally took a deep breath before announcing their departure.

They drove to a small restaurant on the outskirts of the strip. Gil remembered Sara mentioning it when she first had arrived in Vegas all those many years ago, and he had often wanted to work up the nerve to ask her to dinner.

His smile was wide as they pulled up into the parking lot, knowing this was one more dream he was finally getting to see come true.

They smiled and often laughed softly as their conversation was sometimes involved, sometimes nonexistent as they ate in comfortable silence.

As he moved to pay the check, Gil couldn't remember a time he hadn't loved this woman.

_And now, finally, she knows…she knows…_

His hand found his special spot on her lower back, and realized this was what happiness with the right woman felt like.

The music echoed inside the vehicle as they road in silence while their joined hands spoke volumes.

He had pulled up to Sara's apartment, recalling the last time they had been here, only now he was filled with a strange desire to go back in time and alter some of his decisions.

_I should have never left her, should have taken her with me…always wanted her with me…_

_Yet, it all worked out in the end, we're together now – I have to focus on that._

Sara had slipped from the car and moved towards her apartment as Gil was collecting his thoughts.

Now a hefty distance behind her, he gathered his black bag packed with enough items to spend a few overnights at Sara's and began to breach the distance when he saw her come to an abrupt stop, dropping the bag she had held in her own hands.

Racing to her weakening form, he called to her as he approached, wondering what had obviously shocked her from moving forward.

His eyes roving over her looking for signs of injury, he now glanced worriedly at her face and followed the silent glare she kept ahead of her.

What he saw caused him to exhale in shock before taking Sara into his arms protectively.

Sloppily spray painted on her door in angry red letters were two words that disintegrated all the security that Sara felt in Gil's presence since last night:

_PRETTY GIRL..._

Gil all but carried Sara back to the Denali before securing her inside and locking the doors as he entered the driver's side.

Glancing around for the possibility of present danger, he flipped open his cell and speed dialed Brass whose opening words confused him more.

"Hey! How'd you find out already? I just heard and I was about-"

"Jim!" Gil all but yelled, "What are you saying?"

Before he could relate the events at Sara's house, he heard Jim's voice on the other end of the phone begin, "Gil…it's Sofia…"


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: This week has been a whirlwind because I have the most wonderful husband in the entire world…this is a man who for our anniversary gave me a gift that actually made me cry…having heard me speak about Blackbird and the fact that WP is in it but it was sold out and then the engagement extended for one week, he decided that he would surprise me and get tickets!...so tomorrow (Fri) morning we are flying from Philly to Chicago with seats in row E for Sat. night's performance!...okay, I cried…but they were happy tears…this chapter moves the action along…more GSR in the next, although this man can make me smile with the simplest gestures…more next week after our "Chicago visit" as my husband says…hope this pleases…your continued reading and reviews makes me happy and is so appreciated…oh, and if you haven't done so, don't miss hamgsrship's Lady In Red, you won't be disappointed…she certainly sets the bar high for writing fiction…all mistakes are mine…looking to post early next week…you remain so terrific…Chicago, here I come! –Kathy

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Sara seemed oblivious to their surroundings as the Denali raced towards the hospital emergency room.

It wasn't until the lighted entryway appeared before her that she realized where Gil was now parking the vehicle.

Shaking her head violently, she leaned away from him, unbuckling her seatbelt with one hand as the other grasped the door handle.

"I'm not – I won't go in there!" she protested as her instincts overwhelmed her to flee the perceived threat.

Gil moved quickly to grasp her arm a bit too firmly, his worry over hurting her wounded flesh now overruled by his anxiety of her fleeing from the safety of his arms.

They struggled slightly, her voice rising as her temper was fueled by her need to protect herself.

She proved no match for him in the end, his strong arms twisting her as carefully as he could until his hand rested softly on the back of her head, pulling her to rest on his shoulder.

Her attempts to release herself grew fainter, and he persisted in his attempts to calm her with his gentle plea to 'calm down, just breathe, honey'.

Once he felt her surrender and go limp in his embrace, he kissed the side of her hair softly and said, "Trust me, honey – please."

His hand was smoothing her hair continually as he felt her nod ever so slightly.

Bringing her back to face her, he wiped her tears with his thumbs and offered her a small smile.

"We're not here for you, Sara. Brass called, remember? It's Sofia."

Now Sara's eyes searched his for any indication of a ruse, and satisfied that he was once again proving himself trustworthy she opened her mouth to speak, only to be shaken by the sharp tapping on Gil's window.

Sara jumped back in terror, eyes wide and lip trembling.

Gil twisted in his seat and turned the key slightly to allow the automatic window to open.

He found himself staring into the eyes of hospital security.

"Officer," Gil greeted the man while making every effort to stem his annoyance.

But his temper would begin to simmer now as the uniformed officer looked past Gil to a clearly distraught female in the passenger seat.

"Everything alright, ma'am?" he inquired, now eyeing Grissom with some semblance of recognition.

His flashlight flicked on and Sara shrunk from the scrutiny of the light beam directed across her scratches and bandages.

Gil reached over for her hand, but his touch was stalled as the officer pulled open the driver's side door and demanded, "Step out of the vehicle, sir."

Opening his mouth to protest, he suddenly found himself gruffly being aided out of the seat and his back now flattened against the side of the Denali.

"Ma'am?" the officer asked again, but received no response from Sara as she was holding herself tightly to keep from falling apart.

Eyeing Grissom for a long moment, the security guard suddenly placed him as being the lunatic who had taken a young girl from the ER a few days ago.

Jutting his chin with body language that dared the CSI to move, the officer's eyes flew to Sara as he clicked open his cell.

He was just about ready to call for backup, moving to lean into the driver's seat to provide his perceived "victim" some comfort, when from behind he heard Brass bellow, "Oh, good. You're here."

The proud puff of the officer's chest at his "rescue" was quickly deflated as he turned to see the person to whom Brass' comments were directed.

Jim bit back a guffaw as he noted Gil's hands fisted tightly in an effort to restrain an angry outburst.

He had decided not to outright challenge the officer's actions as he was concerned for Sara's emotional state, and was relieved with Jim's timing to defuse the situation without confrontation.

Flashing his badge with one hand and a dismissive wave with the other, Brass' tone brokered no arguments, "He's with me."

Turning to step in front of the now bewildered officer, Brass leaned in to the driver's seat and smiled softly, "Hey, Cookie…"

He waited for her to pull herself together before strolling confidently around the vehicle to open Sara's door and help her out of the Denali.

By the time the door closed behind her, Gil was already there and waiting.

Jim was surprised to see her move into Gil's offered embrace, and he moved around to the back to allow them time to take an obviously needed breath before offering, "Ready, you two?"

The trio moved silently towards the hospital's doors where Brass couldn't resist stage-whispering to Gil, "When we get inside, perhaps it would be better if _I_ took the lead in there."

Gil's eyes snapped to see the mirth in his friend's eyes, the teasing about Gil's last visit to the ER just enough to ease Sara's tension as even she smirked a bit in response to Gil's gaze as it landed testily on Brass before softening greatly as it returned to her.

The trio entered the building as the earlier tension now seemed forgotten.

Jim flashed his badge at the triage nurse and began talking to Gil and Sara so that the hospital staff would know they were together.

Just outside the exam area where the doctor was finishing with Sofia, the three stopped and Brass explained what little he knew as he had wanted to give the wounded CSI some time before taking her statement.

Their attention turned to the doctor exiting Sofia's area, and with Jim waiting to be debriefed of the physician's findings, Sara followed behind Gil into the cubicle.

Sara's heart ached at the sight of Sofia who was leaning back against the raised head of the gurney, a large bandage wrapped encasing her right ear and following around her head, arms wound tightly around herself in a posture Sara knew well.

Her coworker was wearing a hospital gown, Sara noted, and using her investigative skills she instinctively glanced around for the shirt Sofia had worn, her eyes widening a bit as she found it dropped haphazardly onto a chair.

Sofia had worn a short sleeved CSI t-shirt under her vest.

The vest zipper was pulled away from its stitching as evidence that there had been an obvious attempt to rip it from her body.

But the neckline of the t-shirt was what caught Sara's eye.

It had been ripped open on one side, which would have exposed the wearer's neck, shoulders, and upper arms.

Sara felt a prickle of fear race through her as her own hands subconsciously moved to finger her own scarred areas.

Unconsciously, Sara drifted closer to Grissom who was now engaged in conversation with a nearly-composed Sofia.

Having been lost in thought, she now tuned in to what was the end of their initial dialogue.

"After he threw you down, did he continue his assault?" Gil asked with professional compassion.

"No…no," Sofia shook her head, her soft gaze locked with Gil's, "that's the part I don't understand."

Silence interrupted her response, as Grissom allowed her to collect her thoughts.

Sara noticed Sofia's usually well-coifed hairstyle was now morphed into a sloppy ponytail that hung in crazy directions from its half-clipped position.

She continued to stare at the blonde's locks, something important about them was just out of reach from her thoughts.

Sofia continued, "He looked normal enough when he approached me about the fender bender, then overpowered me from behind.

After ripping the vest open, he lunged with a knife towards my collar, it gave way and then…he just stopped."

Gil's eyebrow flew up at that point, having followed the scene in a mental screenplay up to that point.

Sofia glanced over at Sara with annoyance, as she was now moving around the small cubicle in what the blonde felt was a dismissive attitude.

In fact, Sara was intent on looking at Sofia's other personal items, stashed on the corner chair, as she desperately sought to focus on a finding that seemed just out of her reach.

_Badge, belt, bra, hair clip, department issued vest and hat…_

_She was coming off shift…she was wearing her tshirt, vest, and hat…_

Sara spun on her heels interrupting Sofia loudly, "You were wearing your _hat_?"

Sofia shook her head slightly as this question broke her current train of thought.

"My hat?"

Sara was sure she was making headway as her thoughts were gelling together.

"You're hair's a mess because you wearing your hat?"

Sofia frowned now, her eyes glaring at Sara as her hands were moving to unclip her unruly locks and smooth them out of the rubber banded ponytail.

"Yes I had on my hat," she responded testily, wondering just how much she had underestimated this woman's ability to be cruel, as everyone knew the pride the blonde took in her appearance.

Grissom was also perplexed at the scene before him, knowing Sara wouldn't try to take advantage of someone's weak moment.

Yet he trusted her instincts, and he watched as he could almost see the wheels turning in her beautiful head.

Finally, Sara's eyes looked up at Gil with a mixture of pain and horror.

"She wore her hat."

Brass had entered the room now on the cusp of speaking, but his instincts told him to remain quiet and take in the scene before him.

"I already attested to that fact, thank you Miss CSI," grumbled Sofia, who looked to Gil for some form of comfort only to find he was still looking at Sara.

The mindmeld of these two science geeks that several lab techs had alluded to in the past was now in play.

After a moment, Gil responded, "If her hair was pulled up,"

Sara continued softly, "And it was still dark,"

A longer pause before Gil turned, startling Sofia with his sudden movements, "Sofia, what vehicle were you driving?"

The blonde only hesitated a second before responding, "One of the lab cars."

Irritated by the lack of information, Gil tried to remain calm as he moved towards Sofia asking again, "_Which_ car, Sofia?"

Having headed the graveyard shift years ago, Brass' mind was moving in overdrive, connecting these snippets of information and not liking where they were heading.

Looking bewildered, Sofia answered, "After purchasing the new SUVs, the nightshift only _has _two cars left, Gil. One is still in the shop, so I took the black Ford."

Sara took a step back with an audible gasp, shaking her head slightly as the pieces pulled together to form a macabre puzzle.

Instinctively, Brass moved closer to Sara as his mind formed a similar portrait.

Gil tried desperately to form an alternate theory, but found himself grasping at straws.

"Sofia," Brass spoke as his arm went to Sara's back and he turned them to leave, "we'll be in the waiting room until you're dismissed, okay? Take your time," he said kindly as he all but ushered Sara from the cubicle.

"Gil?" Sofia asked in a broken voice.

He turned to see her, really see her, for the first time.

Realizing she had just endured a horrifying ordeal that could have ended with her on a slab in the morgue, once again Gil was faced with the conflict of his responsibility to his staff and his desire to be with Sara.

"You need someone to stay here with you until you go home, "Gil said as he sat in the chair next to the head of Sofia's bed.

That action brought the patient a good deal of comfort, and a great deal of satisfaction knowing that she now had Gil's total attention.

His next action, however, made her wonder whether the "slight" concussion was making her hear things as he sat and pulled out his cell phone, clicking buttons until she heard him say, "Cath? Listen, you need to get over to Desert Palms – right away."

-------

Jim had taken Sara into a small conference room directly off the waiting room, in clear view of the hallway so as not to miss Gil's anticipated arrival.

She sat and he moved to pour a cup of coffee from the hospitality cart in the room, grateful again for the thoughtfulness of the volunteers who manned this station and kept it supplied for staff and law enforcement who needed a break from the stress of the job.

Turning to Sara, he noted she was all about stress right now.

She seemed lost in thought, trying desperately to pull the evidence into different formations – and despairing that there was only one conclusion that made any sense.

Brass' eyebrows raised slightly as he saw her downcast eyes watching as she was tugging on her sleeve to cover the scars on her hands, as if she tugged enough she could hide from her injuries.

"Here," Jim spoke softly as he took her fingers from the edge of her sleeve and placed them around the Styrofoam cup, "take a few sips of this instead, hmm?"

Sara sat up straighter and accepted the cup without looking into those friendly eyes.

Sitting across from her, his fingers strummed the tabletop for a moment before beginning his many questions.

"Sara?"

Failing to make eye contact, he tried again, this time abandoning the good-guy routine.

"Tell me the evidence leads us back to that Ford – the car you've been using almost exclusively since your crime scene attack."

Her eyes closed against the truth of the statement.

Coming back to work, the team had pampered her a bit, and as it was a bit difficult to maneuver the large Denali wheelbase, they had decided the black Ford was a more reasonable choice for her to drive.

And although she had on occasion been forced to use one of the Denalis when swing shift had used the smaller black car and not returned, most of the time her coworkers had not opted to use "Sara's car" for assignments.

Sara shook her head in resignation that of course Sofia would have taken it at the end of shift just out of spite…and she had almost paid for that decision with her life.

Forcing back an army of tears that threatened to overtake her, Sara refused to look at Brass as she recalled the scene at her front door, and the meaning behind those words.

_Pretty girl…_

Once she began the tale, there was a sudden rush to tell it all – her memories of the initial kidnapping, the latest attack at the arson scene, and now the sanctity of her only refuge from the horror also an evidence bank.

Brass sat quietly, but his emotions raged war within him as he wanted to land this guy in the slammer, but first wanted the pleasure of pummeling him within an inch of his own life at the mercy of this detective's two skilled fists.

Reaching out to her, he noted her initial jerk at his touch but was relieved to find her accepting his comfort.

"You're coming home with me," Jim spoke, more of a command than an invitation.

She opened her mouth to protest, but the look in his eye let her know it was already decided.

"You'll be safe there. Until we catch this guy, you can't be alone."

Seeing her acceptance and still worried about her silence, Jim added, "We'll take good care of you, Cookie."

Her eyes shot up as she realized Gil was part of the bargain, and instantly her smile morphed slowly as her head dipped shyly.

Content that she was safe for now, Brass stood and offered her a new cup to replace the lukewarm drink before her.

"I'll be back in a second, okay? Just stay here, I'm only going out in the hallway to make a few calls. You gonna be okay?"

Sara forced herself to look her darling friend in the eye, nodding slightly with a forced smile on her face.

Brass stepped out into the hall, but was immediately frowned upon by the triage nurse who pointed to the NO CELL PHONE sign and insisted he take his call outside, official business or not.

"Never make an enemy when you can just as easily make a friend" was his code, so Brass moved slightly towards the main doors without taking his eyes off the single entry room where Sara waited for him.

Catherine breezed by and nodded slightly; refreshed from her string of days off she was in full "Catherine mode" as she strolled right past the protesting triage nurse who grumbled a bit too loudly about these damn police and their attitudes.

She was enjoying her triumph over irritating the staff a bit too much, causing her to miss a glance into the conference room and thereby missing the vision of Sara sipping her coffee, wishing she were miles away from here.

Her conversation with Grissom was short-lived however, as after initial summaries of what had been happening, Brass' name was mentioned.

"Yeah, I passed him by the main doors a minute ago," Catherine responded.

"With Sara," Gil added, just for reassurance.

"N-noo" Catherine answered slowly, eyes flicking to a now annoyed Sofia wondering what else had been happening in her absence.

"He wasn't with her?" Gil asked, finishing as he slowed imperceptibly as he raced towards the door of the cubicle.

Catherine answered, but Gil didn't wait for the reply as he was steaming down the corridor towards the main waiting room.

Sara just happened to look up as she noted him racing down the hallway.

She called to him as she moved to stand, "Gil!"

He was focused on Brass' back near the main door, but thought he heard Sara's calling for him.

_She's hurt? She needs me. Sara!_

His steps slowed as his training helped him scan the area without fully stopping as he heard her voice again from behind him.

Spinning without stopping made him slightly off-balance, but he sighed in relief as he found her stood in the doorway of the little room.

He was there in a heartbeat, his arms outstretched the last few steps as he grabbed her into an embrace so tight she could feel his racing heart through the fabric of his shirt.

"Sara…oh, thank god…"

Sara made no attempt to pull away. If what she was suspecting was true, she was going to need all the support she could get.

His heart settling into a more normal rhythm, he pulled back and released her enough to turn into the room only removing his hand after she was sit right next to him.

Sara could see his jaw snapped tightly and she knew he was angry with Jim for leaving her alone.

"He's right down the hall," she started in a conciliatory gesture, but she could see the anger flaring in his eyes.

"I'm fine," she tried again, this time the glare was snapped towards her.

"Gil…I'm okay," she spoke softly, her hand moving to lay atop his.

The use of his first name, the soft smile with now graced her face, and the feel of her warm hand on his did much to relieve his tension.

"I'm taking you ho-" he began, then cursed aloud as he slammed his eyes shut in irritation.

Terri was using _his_ home, and now that hers was a crime scene…

Gil looked at Sara in a new light, now more than ever understanding her hopelessness in not having a safe haven though she was much in need of one.

Again, Sara's touch soothed his anxiety as she said, "Jim thinks I should stay with him."

A flash of jealousy? Anger? Sara couldn't decipher the exact emotion that flashed across his eyes as his gaze snapped away from her.

For the first time, Sara really looked at this man she loved.

He was fighting so many battles because of her:

-he had surrendered to his feelings for her,

-he was overcome with the need to protect her against an ever-present yet undefined threat to her safety,

-and now…he was feeling like a failure in his need to be the one who could do just that…

"Gil," she pleaded in a quiet voice.

When he did not respond, Sara knew him well enough to recognize his need for a minute alone to grapple with his emotions.

Standing from her seat, she moved the short distance to stand at the doorway and stare unseeing towards the nurse's station.

The new interns were arriving for their ER rotation. Sara watched as they were being dismissed towards their assignments.

She smirked softly at the bravado these cocky males were exuding, most near her own age.

Instinctively, her hands tugged at the collar and sleeve of her sweater as she moved to leave her spot in the doorway.

The interns had separated towards their assignments, with one making a beeline for the very room Sara and Gil were occupying.

With thoughts of a hot cup of coffee on his mind, the young doctor glanced up as he approached the room, immediately stunned by the chocolate brown depths of Sara's beautiful eyes.

This woman enthralled him, despite her obvious cuts and bruises. They would fade in time, but this beauty would not be permanently affected them.

His cocky, self-assured manner caused a swagger in his step as he hauled himself up to his full six-foot height and stopped just short of Sara's personal space.

He leaned over her with his right hand pressing against the door jamb above her before beginning his seduction.

"Hey, pretty girl…buy you a cup of Joe?" he asked in a bedroom voice.

Sara's face paled, her hands stilled, her breathing stopped.

The intern was smugly enjoying his ability to make this girl speechless, when his arm began to ache in a pain that followed to his shoulder as he felt his elbow bent behind him in a well-practiced maneuver.

"LVPD," Brass spoke loudly, moving the intern a good distance away from Sara.

"Sara?" Brass asked, wondering if there was more to this little encounter than it seemed on the surface.

She was not given the time to explain as Gil pushed between them and pulled her towards him, enveloping her protectively as he glared at the man in a manner that caused the young doctor to actually be relieved to be in the safety of the policeman's grip.

"I'm fine," Sara said with practiced certainty, causing Jim to release the doctor and turn him slightly to dust off his lapels.

"Time for work, _doctor_," Brass intoned, his meaning crystal clear to the now deflated intern.

Jim watched him as he moved up the hallway and started into Sofia's cubicle, only to smile in satisfaction as the doctor stopped cold at the sight of Catherine's uniformed vest.

The intern's eyes snapped back to Brass, who just waved as if to say _Have a nice day!_

Turning back to the room, Jim startled at seeing Gil pulling back tenderly from a liplock with Sara.

Watching Gil move them to the table, Brass was more surprised to see Gil sit and pull a shaken Sara onto his lap.

"I hear we are going to stay with you for a while, Jim," Gil spoke first, and his old friend was happy to see his confidence in finally knowing what he wanted to do about "this".

After receiving a nod, Gil looked at Sara and said, "You can't go home. I don't want you near that place."

Sara began to protest, "But…my clothes…"

Gil interrupted her, "We'll get you whatever you need, honey….you're not going back there."

Her insistence began to upset him.

Interrupting her again, Gil used his supervisor tone saying, "He knows where you live, Sara. I can't take the chance of him being there if you go back."

Understanding and acceptance are two different things, however Sara had to concede his point.

"Sofia," she muttered, causing Gil to crunch his forehead in an attempt to understand.

Sara looked into Gil's eyes as he increased the pressure of his hands slightly on her waist to encourage her to continue.

Taking a deep breath, she looked lost as she told him, "I think…I really know…"

She couldn't look him in the eye and release this latest attack on her sanity.

Turning to Brass she repeated the conclusion they had arrived at during their last chat.

"Sofia was attacked…because he thought it was me."


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Still coming off my Chicago high…hoping to post a blog review on homeofthegsraddict really soon but more late season travel is on the horizon as I try to squeak the last drop of summer out of my calendar before work begins to overtake my world in a few weeks…thanks for all the good wishes and continued reader support and reviews for this story…all mistakes are mine…the plot moves forward slightly as we take a bit of a GSR break in this chapter…hope this pleases…more soon…-Kathy

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Greg was badly in need of a coffee fix, but remained diligent as he shook off his need in an attempt to finish his personal review of this box of evidence from the initial arson scene.

He had been frustrated at his inability to bring the person who had hurt Sara and Nick any closer to justice.

His frustration was making Greg increasingly angry at the thoughts of what had happened to Sara, wondering what she could ever have done to deserve such a fate.

He had wept bitterly as he had reviewed the status report of that arson, sickened by the few crime scene photos that were not marked "Confidential" and stored in a sealed envelope in the evidence file.

Greg was almost glad he was prevented from seeing the full horror she had experienced.

Looking at the single photo of her face taken as she was being transported made him gag in agony at the images of what lay beneath those blood-tinged gurney sheets.

The picture of Sara he had unearthed from the scene of her defilement continued to flash through his mind, causing him to shake his head violently at times to refocus on his task.

As the investigation was stalled due to lack of any new evidence, this newbie crime scene investigator had decided to use his downtime to obey the sage advice Sara had shared when she first started training him: _Follow the evidence_.

His unconscious need to prove himself her hero had caused Greg to check out the original arson case's evidence boxes from their lock-up, and he was now well into his second shift without a break in sight.

"C'_mon_!" he snarled heatedly when his examination of the final remains turned up nothing.

He was achy, hungry, and totally frustrated.

Knowing he was alone in the layout room, Greg pounded his fist uncharacteristically on the table, reaching over to fling the evidence box against the wall in anger.

His head drooped, and a tear fell as the images of Sara's beaten, bruised body replayed over and over in a circus of taunting frames.

Recovering quickly, half smiling at the thought of Sara's reaction if she were to see him in his present state, Greg inhaled deeply and moved to reclaim the box intending to stuff the unyielding items back inside.

And that's when he first spotted it.

Greg dropped the box on the lighted table and stepped back, momentarily scrubbing his hands over his eyes in disbelief.

But it had been no mirage.

There, apparently hidden all this time tucked into the fold of the cardboard box side, the flimsy strand almost mocked him in a macabre game of hide and seek.

Greg's hands shook slightly as he grabbed the forceps and coaxed the strand from its hiding place.

His first impression was that it might have gotten lodged into the fold during the original investigation, only he remembered it was Nick and Warrick who had processed this evidence personally.

The young man's eyes flew to the debris that was collected and now splayed across the table.

This evidence had basically been collected on the perimeter of the scene, the devastation inside the building preventing them from searching the ruins of this particular crime scene.

He recalled that night, having stayed in the lab working another case, and he remembered the team returning around midnight.

_They had bagged their evidence at the scene, at night, and must have placed the bags on the dampened ground before placing them in the carrier to come back to the lab._

The only logical conclusion he could draw was that this hair had been sloughed off the evidence bags as they had been placed in this box before processing, and that the hair had slid off against the rough fold before slipping behind to remain unnoticed – until now.

His blood pressure was rising as he took in the good condition of this strand while his years of lab experience told him without a skin tab there would be little in the way of definitive identification.

Still, he argued with himself, there were several markers that could be useful to narrowing the field of investigation, and while the strand was of medium length this just narrowed the field considerably.

They were now looking for a person of interest who was either female or a long-haired male, and a natural blonde…

---------

Gil sighed slightly as he closed the folder on his lap to prevent the photos and reports inside from falling as he stretched to ease the ache in his tense shoulder and neck muscles.

He was sitting in the plush side chair in Brass' living room, near a sleeping Sara who was stretched out onto the matching sofa.

His eyes washed over her as she lay, slightly huddled into herself despite the generous warmth of the quilt Jim had laid over her before he went back to his office to prepare for a court appearance that afternoon.

Despite his worry, Gil couldn't help the small smile that formed as he watched a single strand of hair dance as she exhaled softly; his smile quickly morphing as his gaze returned to the pile of folders on the coffee table.

Brass had sent a courier from the lab with the requested files, and Gil had been sitting for hours going over the evidence from the five arsons.

There had been little or no substantial remains from any of the scenes, the devastation alarmingly void of any leads.

_This person knows what we'd be looking for…he's smart…covered his tracks well…_

Gil's tired eyes rested on Sara, almost as if she were the only source of consolation.

_What's the purpose of it all? Are my CSIs being targeted? Is this all about revenge – against me?_

The thought that he was in any way responsible for Sara's nightmare made his stomach knot.

But before he could continue with his speculation, the sofa wrenched slightly under the sudden movement of its occupant.

"Please," she moaned, her arms drowsily raised in a defensive posture,

He was at her side in a heartbeat, lowering her hands as they became covered in his tight grip while he leaned almost atop her as he whispered heavily in her ears.

"Sara…Honey, you're okay…I have you…I have you, honey…you're safe…I love you…"

His breathing stopped as the force of his last declaration slammed into his conscious thought.

He looked at her as if for the first time. He had admitted it aloud only once before, when he was sure she was asleep.

Was he really ready to admit it aloud when there was some certainty that she could hear him?

Gil paused for a second, drawing back to see Sara's eyes opening at first fearfully, then her gaze softening as the nightmare released her from its grip.

When her eyes locked with his, the time for indecision had past.

"I love you."

Somewhere he was sure upon uttering those words that time as he knew it would come to a standstill, the world would end, the heavens would fall.

Yet, the clock continued to count off the minutes, the sun etched its shadows across the carpet, and heaven – well it certainly _must_ have fallen.

He was holding an angel in his arms.

Sara's brow furrowed as her eyes remained locked on his, surely she had misunderstood.

Yes, he had made love to her near the sink the other night, and had refused to leave her side.

But love?

She had always dreamed of hearing those words from this man, this wonderful man who had stolen her heart all those years ago.

But now, he was here, looming over her, speaking to her – had he really said _love_?

While she was wrestling with accepting this interaction at face value, Gil was beginning to retreat into worry mode, wondering if he had made a mistake in opening up to her at this time, in this way.

Finally, "Gil?"

His eyes had never moved from hers, almost refusing them the need to blink, worried that he had messed up royally.

Her hands loosened in his grasp, only to move to lie across his gently.

"Gil."

More of a statement than a question, her eyes broke their stare and moved to take in his harried look, his slightly sweaty brow, his adorably anxious semi-smile.

She _had_ heard correctly.

And oh, how she wanted to hear it again.

And again.

And again.

Moving her hand to touch the side of his face in a moment of déjà vu, she smiled softly and asked quietly, "What's your pulse at now?"

The next breath was inhaled in surprise as Gil moved forward to claim her as his own in a kiss so amazing, Sara was sure her body temp had risen multiple degrees.

Pulling away for a mere blink in time, Gil repeated, "I love you, Sara," before replacing his lips on hers possessively.

At this moment, Sara was sure she had never experienced such happiness.

Her body stirred with something akin to desire, and in that moment there was no memory of the recent horrors that she worried would prevent her from ever wanting to make love to a man again.

Oh, and how she was wanting to make love to this man right now.

They shared kisses that morphed into nips and bites until finally Gil moved his attention to her neck – and could feel her freeze beneath him.

Quickly moving to kiss her soundly again, he felt her relax and then began a slower approach to her neck beginning higher as he cooed and kissed near her ear as he felt a flush of pride at how his ministrations made her whimper.

Slowly, he dipped his lips to kiss her neck before moving back to her ear to whisper words of longing, passionately phrased so that her eyes closed in visions of them linked together on cool white sheets.

Those visions caused her to turn her head slightly, inviting him to deepen his exploration.

While the bruised and healing skin felt smooth to his kiss, there were numbing sensations flying through Sara's brain.

It was as if he were kissing her through heavy material, his pressure evident but failing to touch the throbbing need that was increasing in intensity.

"Gil," she was pleading now, and he raised his head to kiss her soundly before moving to the other, unaffected, side of her neck.

His first contact with skin there caused Sara to almost climax at the intensity of his lips hitting their mark.

"Gil," she squeaked out again, and instinctively his hands flew to the elastic of her makeshift pajama bottoms as the folded material of Jim's boxers yielded no barrier to Gil's fumbling fingers.

He reached her sensitive spot in a practiced move, and Sara lurched her entire body into his cupped hand.

His lips moved possessively against her again, urging her on as he commanded between bouts of plundering her with his tongue, "C'mon honey…come for me…I love you…I love you, Sara…c'mon, honey…"

It wasn't long before Gil felt her body stiffen as she exhaled sharply against his tongue as he was finishing a particularly passionate move against her lips.

She fell limp against him, and Gil pulled her closer to him, never having felt this possessive and protective over anyone else in his life.

It wasn't until he felt Sara's hands graze over his erection that his thoughts were turning dark as he struggled against giving in to what she wanted.

He knew it was too soon, he knew she wasn't healed enough, he knew she wouldn't understand his refusal.

And he knew it was killing him to refuse her.

His body ached as he pulled her fingers away from him, kissing them softly before placing his forehead against hers.

"Not yet, honey," he spoke, surprised at how it sounded like a moan more than a statement.

"Gil," it was almost a plea, but he turned away in an attempt to remain strong.

"Soon, Sara," he promised as he raised himself up to a sitting position, wincing at the strain of his arousal against his zipper.

He pulled her onto his lap, immediately regretting the action as the skimpy cloth that separated her butt from his arousal only served to increase his desire for her.

She moved to protest, but he covered her words with a languid kiss that eventually caused both of them to break long enough to try to remember their own names.

His head lolled back against the high back of the sofa, his lips morphing into a contented smile as Sara nestled herself into the little niche beneath his jaw she would come to claim as her own.

The moment was private, beautiful – and harshly interrupted by the ringing of Gil's cell phone.

Reaching over to the table to claim the intruder, Gil winced slightly as his motions pressed Sara more firmly into his lap, causing all kinds of ideas to race through his thoughts.

Instead, he sighed and kissed the top of her head as he resumed his original stance, barking "Grissom" into the mouthpiece.

_This had better be good…_

Sara had craned her neck to observe her love as he struggled to understand what was being said to him.

At first, she thought about teasing him and moving to distract him into finally giving in and making love to her.

She understood that it was probably not what was best for her physically.

But she knew what was best for her emotionally.

Yet, as she caught the slight hardening of his jaw, she knew he had returned to work mode – and the information he was hearing could be a break in their case.

She shuddered a bit to think of the implications of that possibility, and her worry increased as she felt his arms tighten slightly around her.

"We'll be there within the hour," she heard him say, followed by, "Oh, and Greg? Good work."

The phone clicked, and the silence that followed was deafening.

Inhaling deeply, Gil released his hold on Sara enough for her to lay back until she was cradled in his arms.

"I love you, Sara."

The words were becoming easier to say, and made him want to laugh and dance as he spoke them.

His hands traced the outline of her face, down her discolored neck and shoulders which were by now such a familiar sight that his brain did not actually register the scarring.

"I want to be with you, honey…I hope you understand that…"

He pulled her upwards until she was eye level with him.

Gil pulled a wayward hair and pushed it behind her ears before speaking softly.

"…and when it's time, when you're…ready…"

He raised his hand to still her protests.

"When your _doctor_ says you're ready," he chuckled at her pout, moving in to wipe it off by kissing her thoroughly, "we'll go away…just the two of us…"

He kissed her again, the visions of making love to Sara under the twilight on a covered balcony causing him to harden again.

Pulling away to catch his breath, Gil pulled her chin upwards to meet her gaze.

"And I will love you, Sara, like you deserve."

Her chin quivered, "Promise?"

He kissed her soundly, a groan escaping before pulling her back into "her spot" before answering, "That's a _definite_ promise."


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: So sorry for the delay in getting this next chapter posted…summer slipped by so quickly, and fall brings a back to work schedule that regrettably has left little time to write…I'm still on a Chicago high, just getting some pictures developed today…looking forward to updating more regularly starting tonight…this chapter is short, but more to follow soon…all mistakes are mine…hope this pleases…you are wonderfully supportive in both reading and reviewing…thanks for being so terrific!... –Kathy

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I AM EXCITED AND TRULY HONORED TO FIND OUT THIS STORY HAS BEEN NOMINATED IN THE 2009 GSR FANFICTION AWARDS!

THERE ARE MANY WONDERFUL STORIES IN THIS COMPETITION, INCLUDING SOME BY FAVORITE AUTHORS AS GRISSOM1, RUBIXCSIPUZZLE, SIDLE77, AND OTHERS...

THANKS TO THE ONE PLACING THIS STORY IN NOMINATION! VOTING ENDS 9/20 (following the link on the mainpage of gsrforeverlove(dot)com)

He flexed his neck muscles as he moved towards the dubious comfort of the crime lab break room, hoping he would find a carafe of hot coffee to kick start his energy level.

Upon finding a steaming pot of freshly brewed "special blend" waiting for him, Brass sighed and poured himself a tall mug.

Against stretching his neck and shoulders, he daydreamed of a Swedish massage to ease his aches and pains.

The tension from his latest call-out was compounded by the lack of any useable physical evidence to lead them towards finding the perps who ransacked the local hardware store and made off with an undetermined amount of inventory.

The lack of information on the store stock was due primarily to the beating death of the old man who owned the shop.

Brass swiped his hands over his weary eyes, unconsciously attempting to rid himself of the images of the poor guy who he believed may have interrupted the break-in, only to be brutalized with some of the very tools he was trying to defend.

Shaking his head slightly, Jim turned his eyes in search of anything to focus on which would displace the horrific scene.

His face immediately brightened as he sighted Gil and Sara entering the building from the back lot.

A trained investigator, it was the little things that caused him to raise an eyebrow while his lips softened into a satisfied smirk.

Having opened his home to the couple, he expected that, with a little time alone, they might finally break through the self-imposed barriers that had kept them from seeing what the rest of the night shift had almost always regarded as a "done deal".

Yet, Brass would be the first to admit he was surprised by the total surrender to his true feelings that Grissom evidenced since the last threat to Sara's safety.

The detective would be the first to admit his own fatherly feelings towards the younger CSI; his worry over this latest threat escalating right along with the degree of danger to which her stalker was exposing her.

Perhaps that is why, seeing her so comfortable as she walked a bit closer to Grissom than lab policy might dictate, Jim felt some relief that she was regaining some of the ability to cope with the upheaval in her life she was currently facing.

It did not escape her attention that she was wearing a loose fitting silky turtleneck, with long sleeves…no, wait…were they really pushed from her wrists?

The detail caused a full smile to break out on Brass' face.

This was the first time since the fire that Sara had worn a shirt or sweater and had pushed up the sleeves in the manner she had always worn them.

_She's getting more confident…_

_This is the first time she hasn't tried to completely cover her scars…_

_Her lower arms aren't as bad as her upper body, but Sara had lately draped every inch of her burned skin to shield it from view…_

_It's a small step, but…it's definitely a step in the right direction…_

Brass almost chuckled as he turned his attention to Grissom.

_Look at him, the lion protecting his pride…_

_His hand shifted to her lower back, giving her reassurance..._

_His body language screaming "she's mine"…_

_Almost daring someone to try to harm her, at the risk of incurring his wrath…_

At that thought, Jim's smile fell.

He hadn't crossed paths with Gil to mention the conversation he'd had with Greg before leaving for his latest scene.

The young CSI had spent a long time reviewing the evidence, and told Brass he was concerned about a certain blonde's level of inquiry ("snooping around" was Greg's exact term) into the disposition of certain items in the evidence locker.

Apparently, Terri Miller then spent her time guardedly interrogating several of the lab techs about the current leads in the arson investigations, while ostensibly trading concerns over Grissom's overt detachment from the case – and his "suspicious" absence from the lab.

The detective had bristled upon hearing that account, suspecting personal motives for Te rri's comments.

Still, as with all discussions on the inter-office grapevines, Jim was about to formulate a thought about the repercussions of such damaging talk circulating when his worst-case scenario played out before his eyes.

"SIDLE!"

Ecklie's bark was authoritative, annoyed, and acrimonious.

He had heard the gossip circulating that Grissom might be distracted from his duties because of Sara's "irrational paranoia" of being sent out to another crime scene.

He had also heard that Sara was threatening to sue the lab for failing to provide her a safe work environment, and that Grissom was spending time with her in an attempt to change her mind about hiring a lawyer.

He recalled how even Sofia had innocently let it slip in his presence that Grissom had left the scene of an arson to follow Sara as she was being transported for her latest injuries at the crime scene, although none of the injuries proved to be life-threatening.

Now he was face-to-face with this loose cannon who had caused him nothing but grief since her first days in Vegas.

Looking upon the set of her jaw and the fire in her eyes as she now faced him, he was reminded of the first day he met her.

Originally, he had been fascinated by the way she ignored the cold shoulders with which the team had greeted her following the death of Holly Gibbs.

Initially, he had actually entertained that thought that Sara and he might be well-suited for each other.

He had noticed Sara's manner which remained affable even in the face of the team's initial rejection, her tenacity for uncovering the truth in that case, and her hunger for justice for the victim.

She had entered their lab like a little spitfire.

Frankly, the woman was really a turn-on for the likes of Conrad Ecklie.

However, following her firm-and almost _too_ polite-rejection of his dinner offer (which contained a only-slightly concealed inference as to what his _real_ appetite was for), Ecklie had altered his original appraisal of this woman.

And time had done nothing but sharpen the grudge he held against her.

As Sara spun on her heels in the direction of the bellowing, she walked directly into the strong shoulders of Gil Grissom.

Before she could even acknowledge Ecklie's page, Gil had moved to shield her from Ecklie's advances.

The irony that Ecklie was again making advances on Sara was not lost on Brass, who had been one of the few to witness Sara's rejection of Conrad's dinner offer so long ago.

This time, however, Ecklie had a fuming Grissom to deal with.

"Is there a _problem_, Conrad?" Gil asked is his most dismissive tone.

Sara had always chastised Grissom when he tried to use that tone with her, reminding him that it made him sound as if he were trying to be superior to others.

Right now, Sara was more than glad to hear him utter those words, knowing he was protecting what he felt was _his own._

The two men glared at each other as a pin could be heard dropping throughout the lab.

"I _believe_ I was talking to CSI Sidle," Ecklie retorted, trying to make his presence official and thereby without contest.

"If you have something to say to one of my CSI's, I'll be glad to talk to you about it and pass on any relevant information," Gil spoke dryly, his feet firmly planted placing him as a barrier between Conrad and Sara.

His comment was familiar and Sara had a flashback to this same discussion Gil had with FBI Agent Culpepper during their search for the Strip Strangler.

Sara's stomach knotted as she remembered how Grissom had almost died at the hands of that killer, and how he had tried to protect her from harm even at the risk of his own career.

She didn't like the similarities between his treatment of Culpepper in that case and this current standoff with Ecklie.

_Once again, he is placing his career on the line…for me…_

Her self-doubts reared their ugly head, and try as she might Sara began to worry that Gil would be forced to choose between her and the job that was his life….and suddenly she wasn't feeling as strong as when she entered the lab a few moments ago.

To disinterested passers-by, Sara seemed in control of the situation.

Only Brass noticed that she was tugging slightly downward on the hem of her sleeve in an unconscious effort to hide her disfigurement as her confidence was waning.

Instinct propelled him into the corridor just as Ecklie moved into Grissom's personal space.

"Grissom-" Sara said softly, refraining from giving into the desire to grab onto his sleeve and spin him into her embrace, to cling to him as she was becoming uncomfortable at the size of the audience growing to view this unusual lab spectacle, to keep him from doing harm to his career through some misguided sense of concern for her that he would later regret.

Gil was so consumed with his protective feelings that he hadn't heard her plea.

He continued to glare menacingly at Ecklie, even as the man continued to speak.

"As Lab Director, I do not need your _permission_, Grissom, to speak with one of my employees," Ecklie almost spat at him.

"As long as I am Graveyard Shift Supervisor, you _will_ treat _my _team members with respect when you speak, Conrad," Grissom said, fully aware of his tenuous position in arguing with the man who would consider himself to be his superior.

Conrad shook his head in a dismissive fashion, and simply moved to step around Grissom to stand face-to-face with Sara, but found his attempt blocked by Grissom's full body press to keep him at bay.

Ecklie was fuming, but in seeing Brass charging down the hallway he suddenly realized the quiet audience that was building.

Refusing to give Grissom the upper hand in this stand-off, Ecklie snapped at Sara who was barely seen behind Gil's angled body.

"Always a problem, aren't you, Sidle? Well, Grissom or no Grissom, you _will _meet me in the Sheriff's office in ten minutes, or it will mean your job!"

Glaring back at Grissom who was losing his tentative hold on his temper, Conrad took a deep breath and pulled out his best supervisory posture before continuing.

"And anyone who attempts to interfere in our _private _supervisor/employee conference will face a lengthy suspension – and possible termination!"

By this time, Brass was inches away from Sara, arriving just in time to see Ecklie twist away from the group and stomp off towards the Sheriff's office.

Unadulterated hatred was displayed across Gil's face, and without warning Grissom took off down the hallway before Brass could stop him.

Jim glared into the surprised faces of the lab techs, who now suddenly had many things to attend to.

Finally standing in the hallway alone, Brass asked softly, "You okay, cookie?"

The look on Sara's face sent his heart plummeting.

Without a word, she moved forward to allow his hand to slip from her shoulder as she kept walking down the corridor towards the suite of offices.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Thanks to all for the last rounds of reviews…I appreciate all those who continue to support this story by reading…this chapter is short, but I wanted to post tonight…turning up the angst-meter a notch, but a resolution is beginning to form…hope this pleases (although I'll admit this chapter tied me up in a knot or two)…more as soon as possible…you're all so terrific… - Kathy

-------

Gil stormed down the corridor, his speed increasing with the pounding of his heart.

Pausing briefly at the secretary's desk to request an audience, he failed to meet her smile as she peeked in to inquire and then escorted Grissom into the Sheriff's domain.

The secretary twisted slightly to close the door behind him, and was surprised to see the Sheriff's reaction to the senior CSI's presence.

_So glad I don't have to take _that_ meeting…_

She had just returned to the work already started on his computer when her head turned at the sound of raised voices coming from behind her work station.

Although nothing clearly enunciated, the secretary could hear smatterings of _Let's calm down_ which led to another outburst followed by _He has no right_ which led into something being pounded in an angry fashion.

The woman stopped her work, wondering if there was something she should do.

She decided to keep herself close at hand, pulling the phone to her slightly as if anticipating calling for help…

--------

Meanwhile, Sara continued a much slower trek down the deserted hallway that led to the Sheriff's office.

She was so worried about Gil's reaction that at first she did not realize she was passing by Ecklie's open doorway.

As fate would have it, Conrad had returned to his office to calm down a bit before heading to the Sheriff's suite.

He needed to confront Sidle with the facts being circulated in the lab, and to inform her that her little games were placing not just her own job security on the line, but Grissom's as well.

His eyes were focused and his brow knotted in concentration to his task when he noticed she was walking by his door, lost in concentration.

_And she is alone…_

Seizing the opportunity, Ecklie moved silently out the door, his long legs meeting Sara's stride in an instant.

"Not so fast, Sidle," Conrad spat, gripping her upper arm and almost yanking her back into his office.

Sara whimpered in pain as Conrad's nails dug sharply into the healing skin of her upper arms.

Hearing her soft cry, Ecklie removed his hand immediately, but the flesh was so tender a bruise was already forming under the material of her sleeves.

Sara moved to stand near the chair in front of his desk, beginning to feel queasy at being alone in such a small room with a person known to manhandle suspects.

Conrad's lanky frame blocked the only escape route.

His eyes wincing slightly, it was clear he was delighting in have such a captive audience.

"Sit down, Sidle."

When she continued to stand, her thoughts racing as to how she wished Gil were here, Sara's entire body quivered as she heard his booming baritone yell, "I _said_, SIT!"

Whether she consciously obeyed the directive, or if her legs simply weakened in her emotional state, Sara found herself seated in the chair only seconds before Ecklie's large frame loomed over her as he twisted the chair to face him.

Immediately, Sara's body was flooding with adrenaline, quick snapshots of being held hostage blocking out the image of Conrad looming so close she could smell his aftershave.

"This is _my _lab, Sidle," Ecklie began menacingly.

"And as long as I am in charge here, _you_ will work by the rules I lay down."

Sara stared blankly at him, wondering to what he could possibly be referring.

Pulling himself up to his full posture, he stared down at this CSI and noticed that something was indeed off about her current demeanor.

In the past, their altercations had been _spirited_, albeit mutinous at times.

But here she sat, silent, as he continued to goad her with platitudes that at any other time would have caused her to lose her composure, unyielding to a fault.

Somehow, Ecklie was relishing getting in all the licks during this encounter.

"It's been brought to my attention that Grissom has been playing nursemaid to you ever since you've returned from your lengthy sick leave – which, by the way, was a real hardship to the other members of your team."

The fact that Sara's "sick leave" was a direct result of on-the-job injuries did not seem to an important factor to his rant.

Sara suddenly found her chair spun around again until she was face to face with Ecklie.

"THAT is going to end immediately, Sidle," he spoke with a gruff air of authority.

Conrad pushed her chair a bit violently away from him as he stood.

"And don't think I haven't figured out what's going on with you, Sidle."

Sara remained motionless as her eyes remained locked on the open doorway.

Her mind spun with calculating the possibilities of making a clean getaway.

If she didn't get out of here soon, surely she would breakdown, and that was the last thing she wanted to do before this awful man.

"So," Conrad began pacing, enjoying listening to himself talk.

"It is my intention to override Grissom's authority to dole out assignments for the next month or so."

Leaning into her face, he smirked evilly before adding, "Looks like you'll just have to suck it up, Sidle, and do your job without relying on your sugar daddy to cover for all your…_deficiencies_."

Sara opened her eyes and realized Conrad was leaning over her at such a close range that he was staring at the burn marks at the side of her neck.

Needing to distance herself from his scrutiny, she decided to make a break for it before he had a chance to degrade her any further.

She had just cleared the doorway before two large hands clamped down on her shoulders and yanked her painfully back into the room.

Sara was stunned by the ferocity of this latest attack and let out a small whimper before shrugging off his hands, pleading softly as she backed herself into the opposite corner.

"I'm not finished with you yet, Sidle," Ecklie intoned cruelly as he made his way towards her cowering form.

"Oh, I'd say you're more than done, Conrad," snapped an angry tone, causing the lab director to spin on his heels – to face an angry Brass.

Without more than a glare that offered a _this isn't finished by a long shot_ challenge, the detective deftly moved around Ecklie and reached out his hand to Sara.

Knowing better than to invade her personal space at the moment, Brass smiled and spoke softly, "Let's go, kiddo."

Sara moved towards him, but kept her arms tightly wrapped around her frame, as if letting go she would completely fall apart.

Without a backward glance at Ecklie, Sara walked a wide arc away from where the seething lab director stood before almost sprinting out into the hallway.

She could feel herself unraveling.

_How could I have been so stupid?_

_Ecklie knows._

_He knows I need Gil, he must know I can't bear to be outside without him protecting me._

_But Gil hasn't been focusing his job. He's been spending so much time taking care of _me_._

_I bet Sofia or Terri has been complaining, and what's worse- they're right!_

_I can't do this to him anymore._

_I can't be an effective CSI any longer if I'm afraid to even leave my home without some maniac trying to hurt me!_

_But Ecklie's right._

_Gil has been so focused on protecting me, he hasn't been doing his job._

_His job is the only real thing he loves, it's who he is…I can't ask him to jeopardize that for me…_

_He'd be so much better off without me…_

So wrapped up in her musings was Sara that her pace had increased as her heartbreak deepened.

Somewhere behind her, she could hear Brass calling.

She knew he loved her like his own daughter, but this time she needed to be away him - away from all of them.

The sounds of the hallway caused Sofia to pop her head out of the break room and stare in wonder at the retreating form of Sara Sidle down the corridor outside Eckie's office.

She shrugged thinking there was certainly more activity there since she had ended her pleasant visit with Conrad just about an hour ago.

But Sara was oblivious to her surroundings, and failed to see Sofia's curious expression as she continued swiftly down the hall.

She couldn't think. She needed time to figure out a plan.

She needed time to decide what she needed to do to keep Gil safe from making a disastrous career-ending mistake.

She couldn't breathe. She needed air.

Ducking down a corridor and into a side room, she closed the door behind her, keeping the lights off as she moved across the darkened room to the emergency exit on the opposite wall.

The fire escape was a narrow ramp that led her around two hairpin turns before ducking finally into the back parking lot.

Her feet propelled her forward; she just wanted to get away from this place…but where could she go?

Still moving forward, Sara patted her pockets before remembering that she wouldn't have car keys as Gil had driven them to the lab.

Feeling in her back pocket for her slim-fit wallet, she realized to her relief that it was there and she was sure she had enough money for a taxi.

Had she been a bit calmer, she might have taken notice of the tall blonde taking a final drag on a cigarette before flicking it inconsequentially into the pile of asphalt against the rear door leading to the lab's underground parking garage.

However, the only thought running through Sara's mind was her need to distance herself from this lab, from Ecklie, and from the one person she loved enough to sacrifice for his happiness.

In her emotional state, Sara was running to find a safe place.

If she had been thinking clearly, she would have realized she just might be running into the hands of danger itself.

-------

Gil was red-faced as he slammed down the corridor leading from the office suites.

"_I'll run my shift the way I feel is right, Sheriff!"_

"_It's only _your_ shift because I say it is, Grissom! Perhaps you need to rethink your priorities."_

"_Then perhaps you might want to rethink _your_ priorities, Sheriff. Three of my female CSIs have been injured on the job thanks to this serial arsonist! _My_ priority is to not let that happen again!"_

"_Conrad Ecklie is still your immediate supervisor, Gil."_

"_And if he interferes with my handling of this ongoing arson investigation again, you will be looking for someone else for him to supervise!"_

"_An ultimatum, Grissom? You've worked here for many years, Gil. That's just not like you…"_

"_Well, perhaps I've changed, Sheriff. Meet the new Gil Grissom."_

Those words haunted Gil as he strode down the hallway in search of Sara.

Sara.

She was the reason for the emergence of this "new Grissom".

She had taken this shell of a man and turned over her heart to him.

She had shown him trust, trusted him with her darkest secrets, and he wanted to be the man she needed him to be.

And here at this moment, he vowed he _would _be that man for her.

Now Gil felt almost frantic in his need to find his Sara.

He had been so intent on ending Ecklie's tirade against him and Sara, it was only now that he realized he left her standing there alone with no idea where he was heading.

Ducking his head in and out of the labs he passed on his way, Gil finally found a worried looking Brass stepping worriedly out of the A/V lab.

"Oh, good, Gil…is she's with _you_?"

Panic spread throughout his body as he gulped and said, "No, Jim…I left her with _you_…_what's going on?"_

Anger clouding his better judgment, the detective gave Gil a synopsis of what he knew of Sara's encounter with Conrad.

Fuming, Gil darted towards Ecklie's open door only to have Jim pull him back gruffly.

"You don't have time for this cowboy act, Gil…we need to find her," Brass spoke clearly and calmly, although his heart was thumping wildly in his chest.

Staring over Gil's shoulder at Ecklie's door, he added, "There'll be plenty of time to deal with that sack of trash later."


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Apologies for the delay in posting…the Fall job unfairly took me away from my own computer last week (although I enjoyed immensely getting caught up on my reading)…promises for more timely updates beginning this weekend until we finish (although there are still several chapters left)…This story is just absorbing my thoughts and I promise I will update soon, even if it has to be shorter chapters…A shout out of thanks to **edge15684 **and** world of gsr **for the private messages of encouragement on this story…all the reader support and especially reviews for this story have remained amazing…there are such terrific people on fanfiction, and so many of them are committed to this story!...thanks again for the votes sent in for this story at the Fan Fiction Awards…can't imagine winning with all the real heavy hitters also in contention, but I encourage you all to read the other nominated stories as I have mostly done - amazing talent out there, and I am so honored just have been nominated…this chapter made me sad, but leads to the next chapter which I promise will keep the GSR intact…hope this pleases…more soon –Kathy**

**----------------------------**

_Ben Jacobs was a good man._

Like most Las Vegas transplants, he had retired early from his career spent driving cabs in Philadelphia, PA, and had left the city with his wife soon after their only daughter married right out of college.

Vegas seemed like an oasis of warmth, which pleased his wife's arthritis.

But when her still-prescribed therapy bills began to mount, Ben turned to driving once again, working part-time a few nights a week to supplement his retirement savings.

_Ben Jacobs was an empathetic man._

He usually worked the Crime Lab grid.

He was more than used to fares who climbed into his cab sometimes silently dejected, but more often slamming doors and barking directions while they scrambled for their cell sharing more details and using harsher epitaphs than Ben liked to hear.

But this fare – something about the way this young woman held onto herself, as if she would break apart if her arms released their hold around her midsection.

There was the haunted air of despair that overshadowed her pretty eyes as they stared unfocused out the window, their reflection evident in his rearview mirror.

Oh, something was different about this one.

She seemed – lost…almost searching for someone or something to bring her some peace.

His opinion was bolstered by her soft request that he "Just drive around for a while, please."

It was as if she had no real place to call home, to hide from the despair her world was imposing upon her.

_Ben Jacobs was a loving father._

As his eyes flitted between the road and the passenger in his care, his thoughts roamed to his own wonderful daughter, happily married and expecting his first grandchild in a few weeks.

He recalled with a slight smile the hours they would sit by the family fireplace on cool winter nights, talking about the problems that troubled her teen existence.

The father in him wanted to reach out now and talk to this troubled young passenger, ask what was so wrong, knowing sometimes talking out a problem helped find a solution.

Yet being a father, he knew that sometimes space was what was needed to grapple with weighty problems, and so he gave into the need for privacy her body language screamed for; his past experiences telling him she would speak when she was ready.

_Ben Jacobs was a cautious man._

It was during one of these stolen glances that it caught his eye.

Past experiences at working the midnight shift in the heavily crime laden sections of a large inner city, Ben always drove with an aluminum baseball bat under his seat, insurance for his protection.

It had saved him more than once in his day.

So when his first detoured turn was copied by the black Pontiac with tinted windows, no warning thoughts necessarily went off in his head.

A few turns towards the desert, however, proved the Pontiac still tailing the taxi.

Ben's internal alarm suddenly rang as he glanced a bit nervously in his rearview mirror to check on his passenger – only to find the black vehicle still squarely in his sights.

_Ben Jacobs was a resourceful man._

Immediately sizing up the situation, he reached under the seat and placed his "life insurance" on the seat beside him.

Picking up his gaze to indicate they were still being followed, Ben was now worried for the safety of his pretty passenger.

Clearing his throat, he managed to gain Sara's attention as he smiled as reassuringly as he could muster and spoke in a fatherly tone.

"You look like you could use something warm to drink. There's a great diner a few miles from where we are. I wouldn't mind waiting off the clock if you wanted to step inside for a cup of coffee or tea."

Sara silently considered for a moment, and Ben took that as his cue to continue.

"You know, you look like you could use something to eat too, honey."

Hoping she wouldn't get the wrong idea, he was relieved when she looked down and hid her eyes before quietly responding.

Normally adverse to such endearments from complete strangers, the soft spoken comment seemed so heartfelt that Sara had to return a small smile when she finally raised her head and said, "I'm fine," but after a moment added, "But a cup of tea does sound good right about now. Thanks."

_Ben Jacobs was a calculating man._

He turned onto the by-pass that he assured Sara would take them to this great little diner all the cabbies went to. As Sara turned her gaze from the rearview mirror, she just missed Ben's eyes darken as he realized the Pontiac had just turned with him.

----------------

_Ben Jacobs was a patient man._

Sara had almost laughed aloud as Ben pulled into the diner near the lab.

There was something comforting about seeing the neon coffee cup, with half the steam actually burned out, that caused her to sigh softly.

This was a place she had come to with the team after many hard cases.

It was homey in a sense. And Sara could use with a dose of homey right about now.

She promised Ben she'd only be a little bit, but he cautioned her loudly to "Eat something!"

His protest sounded so like something Gil would say that she paused to turn back and smile before simply nodding and ascending the few steps to open the swinging door.

Picking up his radio, Ben casually called in a "Coffee Break" at the diner off Fremont, receiving a "10-4" from his dispatcher.

But the driver had no intention of taking a break. His eyes remained focused on the black Pontiac that had taken up a parking spot cattycorner from the diner.

---------------

There was something comforting about sliding into the booth at the rear of the diner, her back to the windows and the doors.

It seemed as if she sat lost in thought for quite a while.

Even so, she was startled out of her quiet state when she reached to sip her tea and found it had run cold, along with the unbitten toast slices she had promised Ben she'd order.

She nibbled the edge of the first slice, and as she did her mind transported her to the time Gil stood in his kitchen making toast for her after that amazing night that they first shared his bed.

Sara thought about her worry now, and how Gil had changed everything.

She had always been "self-sufficient", "self-relying", but at this moment she was beginning to feel "selfish".

He had taken the risk to be with her.

He had shown her, more than any other person in her life, that she was important, that she mattered, that she was worth the risk.

_And how had she repaid him?_

Her head bowing slightly, her eyes fell to her hand now resting on her jeans pocket.

_He's looking everywhere for me. I know he is. I bet he's called my cell a hundred times._

Shame engulfed her, as her mind's eye saw him rushing throughout the lab, questioning everyone about her last known whereabouts.

Taking a deep breath, Sara reached in her pocket and retrieved her phone.

Turning it on, the screen barely finished lighting before the beeps signaling incoming text messages were overwhelmed by the signaling ring of phone messages having been recorded.

Sighing, she decided hearing the worry in his voice would be too much to endure.

Opting for reading the texts, she clicked on the window to discover seven messages from the same number, the last just a few minutes ago.

Her spirits deflated more and more as she forwarded through the archive.

_Where R U?_

_Honey, R U ok?_

_Looking for you. Call me._

_Please call me when you get this._

_Worried. Just let me know you are safe._

_Sara, you don't have to do this alone anymore._

_Sara – PLEASE honey. I love you._

Sara swiped at the tear that fell as she inhaled deeply and clicked on the Reply button.

He loved her.

He had said it.

And this time, she believed him.

She had been such a fool.

Here she was, worried about the time when he would change his mind and push her away again.

Here she was, doing _exactly_ that to him when he must be out of his mind with worry.

Worry over _her_.

Suddenly, Sara could only think of one thing.

She needed to be with Grissom.

She wanted to feel his arms around her, giving her the safe haven she had never experienced before in her troubled life.

She was scared – but he was right.

She didn't have to do this alone anymore.

Because she _wasn't_ alone. Not anymore.

She had to get back to him. But first, she had one more thing to do.

Whipping out her cell phone, she hit the Reply button to his last message.

_Taking a cab back to the lab. I love you too. -Sara_

-----------

_Ben Jacobs was a fearless man._

Ben had sat keeping his eyes fixed on the rearview mirror as he watched the black menace parked across the street.

Never taking his eyes off the vehicle, Ben was only mildly aware that Sara had been inside for almost an hour.

Just as he wondered if the people inside the Pontiac might be getting tired of waiting, he reacted swiftly as he spotted a dark-clothed figure step confidently out of the black vehicle.

His long, dark trench coat flapped open as he sauntered smugly towards the diner.

The large-framed cab driver reached over with a muscled arm to grab the bat from its resting place next to him.

Drawing a steadying breath, Ben unconsciously reached up to straighten the brim of his baseball cap, and threw open the driver's side door.

_This guy wasn't getting anywhere near this quiet little lady with the gap-toothed smile._

_Not while _he_ was alive and kicking._

----------

Tossing some bills on the table, Sara pushed open the door to the diner and stepped out into the mugginess of the dissipating heat of a Las Vegas night.

She felt a shiver rock her to the core, and reflectively she drew her arms tightly around her middle protectively.

It was hard to explain the sense of dread that overwhelmed her upon leaving the safety of the diner.

Her hand tightened over the cell phone she forgot she was holding.

Her smile was small but real and, while she still worried about what was going to happen next, she clung onto the feeling that as long as Gil was with her that they could face anything if they just stayed _together._

Sara moved towards the cab which the driver now had kindly backed into the parking space in the time she had been inside, her passenger door now the only part of the taxi illumined by the diner's lights.

Before entering, she dipped her head to look inside, spotting her cap-brimmed driver talking softly on his cell phone.

Immediately upon opening the door to enter, she heard him click it closed and start the engine.

Not waiting for him to inquire, Sara inhaled resolutely and said, "Back to the Crime Lab, please," without another thought before turning to gaze out the window with her heart racing as she anxiously waited to see Gil.

The car shifted into gear, and the cab pulled out of the parking spot.

Not a moment later, one of the night shift waitresses passed by the same spot and turned her Jeep into the darkened alley alongside the diner where the staff usually parked.

Pulling into her designated spot across from the dumpster area, she shut off the car and glanced quickly into the rearview window to adjust her makeup.

Upon exiting her vehicle, she turned towards her usual route when she spotted something slumped against the front edge of the dumpster.

As she moved hesitantly over to the shadowed clump, her steps slowed as her eyes attempted to adjust to the darkness and understand what she was seeing.

Her curious expression turned to one of horror.

Her screams filled the night air, attracting attention to her proximity to the remains of a bloodied, beaten body.

Its features indistinguishable due to the severity of the beating, blood coated the body which seemed to have almost every bone broken as it slumped in an inhuman manner.

A blood-coated aluminum baseball bat peeked from its hiding place behind the dumpster as if it had been callously tossed there.

_Ben Jacobs was a dead man._


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: Despite the "best laid plans of mice and men", this is the first chance I've had to write all week…I am posting as I leave for the night, so no time to reread and all mistakes are mine…this story is moving forward and the action in this chapter sets up the chain of events that eventually leads them to uncover some answers…hope this pleases all the faithful readers and especially reviewers of this work of the heart…your support remains terrific, and I promise the worry in this chapter will be quickly resolved – but can anyone guess how Grissom will solve this dilemma?...I promise to try to post as soon as I can…take care, -Kathy

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Gil paced anxiously in the foyer, waiting for Sara to arrive.

In midstride, he jerked to a complete stop, almost falling sideways as a cab appeared in his peripheral vision.

Although the taxi had not yet come completely to the curb, Gil was already at the door which flung open with great force as he all but lunged onto it.

His face was alight with relief, but his features quickly fell in tandem with his heart as the taxi's passenger door swung open to reveal its occupant.

Crutches appeared first, followed by legs grown long and strong under the Texas sun.

Turning back from the driver, a broad grin crossed the CSI's face.

"Hey, Grissom! Don't look so happy to see me!" Nick teased, aware that his boss' reaction was merely one of surprise.

"Sorry, Nick. I just – I – I was expecting Sara."

Nick's merry mood vanished, instantly replaced by concern.

"How long-" was all he said with a voice now aligned with Grissom's anxiety, his head whipping to search the passing traffic.

Gil sighed. "She sent me a text not 30 minutes ago, but she's not answering her cell," he spoke, his eyes maintaining their street-side vigil.

The hair on the back of his neck now on high alert, Nick moved forward deftly, his crutches clattering softly on the sidewalk.

"Out of cell range?" Nick rambled aloud, scrambling for an explanation that did not bear a sinister overtone.

His comment only made Gil's worry increase.

Before Gil could respond, the chirp of his cell phone brought his thoughts back to the present.

His hands moved swiftly as his eyes scrambled to the caller ID.

His shoulders slumped, silently answering Nick's unasked question.

"Brass," Gil mumbled with a sigh before engaging the call.

Walking away from Nick, the younger man viewed his boss with worry which intensified as the one-sided argument did.

A few low, heated exchanges before Nick heard Gil spit out, "Dammit!...It NEVER is!...I get it!...FINE!" before slamming down the cover of the cell to end the call.

To Nick, Gil Grissom looked like a man ready to snap. As Gil kept his back to him, the younger man knew he was taking a moment to process his options while reclaiming his temper.

Finally, Nick spoke with concern. "I can wait for her, Griss."

As there was no response, he tried again. "I'll wait right here, won't move, until she comes."

After a heavy sigh, Gil turned to face Nick, happy at least that his irritation needed no explanation.

"Fine," Grissom's voice spoke more softly, but his conflict still evident.

Nick almost chuckled at Gil's use of that word.

When Sara spoke it, usually it meant she was anything but.

Seeing now the despair in his boss' eyes, hearing that word tugged hard on Nick's heart.

_All these years of putting the job and career ahead of Sara, and now he finally made his move to pull his head out into the real world…and it seems like the job is trying to pull him back down and away from her…._

"I'll call you the minute she arrives," Nick spoke again, trying to sound positive.

Grissom could only nod as he moved towards the parking lot, the knot in his stomach growing as his instincts were sounding loud alarms.

------------------

Brass shook his head as he stood over the beaten body.

_I'm always amazed at what people are capable of doing to each other._

His eyes remained fixed on the form before him, yet his mind trailed away until his thoughts were back in the lab – and Ecklie.

Even now, his pulse began to race at the sight of Sara nearly cowering in the corner as that bastard began to make his move.

But where was Sara now?

He knew that graveyard was swamped, what with Sofia begin allowed back to work but not into the field.

He knew as he placed the call that Grissom was going to be furious with him for calling him away from the one place Sara might return.

Yet the press was already swarming, and the last thing he needed was the Sheriff to show his face and demand to know why this case was sitting idle in front of the reporters.

After all, this was an election year.

Jim's thoughts returned to the present as he heard a familiar voice behind him gasp.

Turning, he saw the night shift waitress who he suspected was kind of sweet on him.

And, if truth be known, it didn't hurt to have a place to go when he needed an ego boost.

"Shari," Brass chided softly, moving towards her and spinning her back to the front of the building.

"You shouldn't be here. The crime tape is to preserve the scene, and to keep you safe."

Just as the night shift had made this diner home before, during, and after many overwhelming shifts throughout the years, Shari had adopted them all as if they were part of her family.

And, in turn, they all had a soft spot for this middle-aged waitress.

Oh, that didn't mean that she couldn't give as well as take, but she enjoyed watching out for all of them when they seemed to need a little TLC.

Knowing she now was upset but trying to cope, Jim leaned over to whisper, "A pretty little thing like you shouldn't be messing with the likes of this crime scene."

Despite herself, Shari laughed out loud. She took a step forward as Brass raised the crime scene tape while he raised his chin to summon one of the officers nearby.

Smiling again at the waitress who seemed appropriately comforted, Brass spoke directly to her.

"Shari, this nice officer is going to make sure you get home safely. I'm afraid all the cars in this lot are going to be off limits until the CSIs are done."

Nodding appreciatively, the waitress addressed the officer. "I'm on the clock for another hour or so, if that's alright."

Brass responded, "Sure, sure it's fine. He'll be ready when you are."

Before reaching the front of the building, Shari turned and called out, "Think you need a hot cup of coffee, detective."

With a smile, Jim returned the call, "That'd be swell. Thanks."

Shari moved forward passed Grissom as he hurried to where Brass was standing.

She smiled and thought, _And one for Grissom, too._

Brass watched silently as Gil approached, wondering if his anger had subsided any.

Jim knew he was worried about Sara, and made a promise to himself to help Gil anyway he could so that the scene could be secured and they could continue to wait for Sara.

"Anything?" the detective needed to know.

At first Gil glared, but seeing the worry expressed in his friend's eyes he just sighed and shook his head.

"Listen, Gil. Everyone else is tied up at a scene. As soon as someone is available, they can take over, okay?"

Again, all Gil could do was nod knowing rehashing the problem was wasting minutes he could be out there looking for Sara.

His eyes narrowed as he looked at the bloodied form lying next to the dumpster.

"Guess we don't have to speculate about COD on this one," Brass muttered a bit sadly, the violence he witnessed of late was beginning to get to him.

"Never get ahead of the evidence," Gil answered mechanically, although in retrospect the beating would be recognized as the cause of this man's demise.

"Such violence – gang related?" Brass thought aloud.

Turning his head in practiced form, Gil surveyed the scene, eyes falling on the discarded bat that peeked out from behind the bin.

"Usually gangs leave a marker, hat or shirt – you find anything when you first arrived?" Grissom asked as his training taught.

Brass shook his head as Gil stood to join him a few paces from the scene. Before he had a chance to answer, however, Shari appeared behind them holding two large lidded Styrofoam containers.

"Careful, they're hot," she warned in a motherly fashion.

The two men accepted the coffee with thanks. While they normally didn't accept offers of food or drink on the scene, this particular venue was well-known for their service to the LVPD.

Grissom turned silently towards Shari as she sent him a warm smile.

"Guess tonight's been my lucky night," she smirked, trying desperately to avoid looking at the body.

"Luckier than his," Gil quipped in a sad tone.

Shari's lips twisted into a slight smile. With a sigh she continued, "Well, at least I get to see some of my favorite CSIs."

She winked at Brass in a small flirting motion, making him blush before clearing his throat to say, "Yeah, Grissom is always a sight for sore eyes."

Before Gil could send a glare in response, Shari laughed as she said, "Yeah, _always_…but it was so good to see Sara."

That statement got an immediate response from both men.

Seeing their startled expressions, Shari wondered if she hadn't put her foot in her mouth.

After all, Sara had been so distracted that Shari hadn't spoken more than a few words about her order.

In retrospect, Sara did seem…troubled.

Shari moved closer to Brass and hastily added, "Everything's okay with Sara, isn't it?"

Gil pushed that conversation aside as he all but twisted the waitress bodily in his direction.

"When was she here?"

The tone he used brokered no room for hesitation.

Her eyes lowered in response as she tried to bring the exact details to mind.

"Well, she came in about an hour and half ago. She ordered tea and toast, but pretty much finished neither.

Then, she got up suddenly and left money on the table. Didn't even bother to wait for a check. But that's not all the unusual for the LVPD," she finished, knowing how their pagers call them for quick response.

"Then what?" asked Gil nervously, glancing at Brass in a worried fashion.

"Guess that's all I know," Shari said apologetically.

"Did she leave with anyone? Talk to anyone? Did you see which way she might have driven off?" Gil fired off, his stomach knot tightening.

"Well, I know she arrived in a taxi so I don't think she drove herself when she left," the waitress spoke trying to be helpful.

"Did you see her call for a cab before she left?" Jim sounded anxious.

"Can't really say…however…" Shari's voice trailed off, causing Grissom to lean forward.

"Think…even little things can have importance."

Shari turned from Gil's exasperated gaze to Brass' intent stare.

"I just remember seeing a cab sitting out in front from just about the time Sara came in. Really, I can't swear it was her cab, but – is it possible she asked the driver to wait for her?"

The men exchanged glances before Grissom whipped out his phone.

Brass' 2-way sounded an incoming message, and he turned away to get the details from the dispatcher.

His posture stiffened as he swung around, his facial expression halting Grissom's dialing finger.

"I'm on it," Jim barked as he moved forward snagging Gil's arm as he pulled him to follow.

"Shari…go back inside, get a ride home from the officer…we'll keep you updated," he said in a professional tone which caused the waitress to do as she was asked.

"Jim," Gil implored, knowing in his heart this latest dispatch involved Sara.

Having reached his cruiser, Brass slid behind the wheel and pulled out with lights and sirens as Gil was still buckling himself.

"Taxi dispatch called it in. They had a driver taking a food break at this location over an hour ago. They are unable to contact him, although their GPS shows the cab parked less than a mile from here on a side street near the lab."

Gil's head snapped to the front windshield, panic surging through his system. _Sara_.

Three minutes later, the duo pulled up alongside the yellow vehicle. Gil was out before the squad car stopped.

Racing to the taxi, Gil disregarded protocol and yanked the back door open.

What he saw brought his worst dreams to life.

Turning to Brass, his horrified expression quickly changed into determined anger.

Looking past his enraged friend, Jim could see a strip of moistened gauze tossed haphazardly onto the cab's floor.

Pulling out his silver pen, Brass leaned over to retrieve the strip – stopping dead in his tracks as his eyes focused on what lay below it.

Rising with the gauze now dropped to the seat, the detective turned to allow Gil to see the discovery for himself.

"Sara," Grissom gasped, his hands flying to his mouth as his eyes suddenly focused on Sara's cell phone abandoned on the taxi floor.


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: You know the song "Sorry, but I have had no personal computer time this week?"…sigh…I feel like I've been singing that a lot lately...promises for another update, perhaps as soon as tomorrow late night…this story is on my mind all the time now and I am anxious to continue it to a happy conclusion…thanks to all those who read and especially those who review for your patience…hope this pleases…you are the best of the terrific readers on fanfiction…a reminder that this story is rated M for mentions of rape -Kathy

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Sara had never tolerated drugs well.

So now her senses were providing disconnected and troubling signals to her brain.

Unable to force her eyes open, her first semi-conscious thought was that she was being lifted, maybe floating.

Something underneath her was jarring her shoulders and knees as she flew through the air, her nose alerting her to a dampness usually associated with abandoned warehouses or basements.

Her hands refused to move, yet she could feel the weight of her right arm falling limply downwards like dead weight as it brushed with great irritation against a scratchy surface that reminded her of being hauled unceremoniously into the house by her father as he arrived home wearing his tattered woolen jacket.

Her head began to pound as she was almost delirious from the frightening sensory images that were bombarding her brain.

Feeling something hard and cold suddenly hitting her back, the room continued to spin as Sara fought for some semblance of reality.

She no longer felt as if she were moving, but she was cold, so cold.

Sara tried in vain to recall the last lucid memory, but all that she was able to focus on was the sensation of cool air that made her shiver.

Still unable to force her eyes opened, darkness almost claimed her again before a memory surfaced enough to bring forth the first frightening impression of her current reality.

Someone was opening the buttons of her shirt.

Images began to swirl on the inside of her closed eyelids as Sara's mind initiated flashbacks to the night she and Nick had been taken hostage by that mad man.

They had ripped open her shirt that night also, someone holding her down while the other was almost tearing at it with his ugly teeth.

Sara was sure she could smell the same body odor of her previous attacker, and the adrenaline rush of that possibility was causing her to rise out of her almost catatonic state.

Still unable to open her eyes, her other senses focused on an undeniable conclusion.

She had forced the details of her original horror to become buried, until now.

_There had been two men at the fire scene. _

One had departed angrily after raping her with an unopened beer bottle.

Sara shook with the memory of the crimped metal bottlecap being shoved painfully in and out of her, cutting and scraping the tender flesh on the interior and exterior walls.

Her moans and pain-filled protests ignored by the perp's intensity of the concentrated attack.

When he had finished with her, she was almost comatose from the pain.

Sara now began feeling nauseous at the memory of her attacker cracking open the bottle afterwards and offering her a drink before laughing cruelly and downing the liquid possessively in one gulp.

She heard the men begin to argue over who would be next to have a go at her.

They struggled and the yellow-eyed man punched his accomplish with such force Sara was sure his neck would be broken.

His hand stinging, he moved towards Sara who began to plead for him to spare her.

Looking at her with contempt, he had poured the remaining bottle droplets over her protesting lips before swooping down to lick her lips, digging his tongue across hers to lap up the remaining fluid.

"She's all yours, mate," he had sneered, pushing away from her. "I've never been one for sloppy seconds."

And with that, he had fled through the back door, allowing his partner to move gruffly over her to painfully "get his share".

Horror planted itself in her heart as Sara's memories were returning in force.

His partner had perished by dousing himself with the same accelerant he used to soak her own tattered shirt.

She shuddered as she could almost hear that insane whisper in her ear after all this time: "C'mon, pretty girl, they'll never get me. We're going out in a _blaze_ of glory."

That is how the second man had met his fate.

But his vile accomplice had managed to escape.

_And now he had returned to finish the job._

Fear caused her body to begin to shiver uncontrollably, and the feel of scratchy, blistered hands over her now-exposed upper body only enhanced her terror.

"My pretty girl."

Sara heard the words as the groping continued, her anxiety heightened by her body's refusal to allow her to move her arms or legs defensively.

Her mind screamed as she felt him removing her slacks, the intense discomfort of the cold slab now lapping at her lower extremities.

Her hope for any consideration was abandoned, however, as she felt him slowly removing her lace undergarment – leaving only his heated breath to warm her most private area.

Still unable to move, her mind screamed "No!" again and again as she felt him reposition her legs and move his face so close to her juncture that she was sure his lips grazed her as he whispered, "Such a pretty girl."

Sara heard him raise himself and felt herself being dragged forward so that her legs were almost off the table.

The next sound made her heart pound painfully in her chest.

The sound of a zipper being lowered.

Just as Sara's mind pleaded with her heart to just stop pumping, allowing her the only option left to prevent her from reliving her greatest nightmare, the shrill sound of a cell phone blasted through the space.

Sara felt hands move under her buttocks to raise her upwards, but the ringing persisted and the male before her cursed loudly.

Just as Sara began to hope, silence taunted her once again.

She heard an evil laugh, and envisioned her attacker grinning as he prepared to enter her roughly.

Again she felt his hands raise her, and again he was deterred by the new ringing of the cell phone.

Dropping her almost painfully, Sara heard the figure zipper his trousers and move angrily to the summons.

"Yeah?" he spoke, his irritation evident.

"No…yeah…listen-" but he was cut off by the obviously angry tone of the caller.

In the quiet of the room, Sara was becoming more aware of her surroundings.

Even though she couldn't open her eyes, her training caused her to take in any evidence from the scene.

Her hearing detected some of the sounds coming from the cell phone.

She could hear a woman's voice, and Sara chided herself for thinking she recognized the caller's voice, conditions being what they were.

It was, at best, wishful thinking.

Yet there was a part of her that could swear she could place that sound if she had a bit more time...

The only distinct words she could fully understand was the harshly yelled, "Is that CLEAR enough for you?"

"Yes," her kidnapper now relented, although by his intonation he was obviously less than pleased at having to comply.

Another few exchanges, then the man's voice began to move towards Sara.

"No…she's still out of it….hey!...it's only been about half an hour since I ditched the cab!"

She could feel the anger coming off him in waves.

Sara flinched as she felt his index finger moved from her left breast down to her navel and on to the thatch of hair that covered her intimate parts.

"I'm _taking_ good care of her," she could almost hear the smile despite his protest, which must have fallen at the next directive.

"I _said _we weren't," he countered angrily, and Sara groaned slightly as he grabbed the short curls and tightened his grip on them.

"Yes…_I understand…_ no marks," his breath deepened as his obvious irritation showed.

Another few words, and Sara heard the cell phone click closed only to be followed by the sound of the device hitting a padded surface with considerable impact.

She forced her eyes to open, mere slits were enough for now.

The sight before her wished she had remained unaware as when he brought her into this place.

Mirrors lined the walls of what can only be described as some sort of weight room that had been transformed into some kinky sex parlor.

Track lights that were dimmed, some with red and black bulbs, strobe lights in the corners next to divans that were covered in damp leather, some chains and handcuffs hanging on the walls – and pictures of nude women posed in compromising torturous poses.

Reality was crashing in as suddenly an ominous glare from two yellowish eyes peered into Sara's eyes blocking her view of the room.

"Hey, there," he whispered conspiratorially, "I'm glad to see you're coming around."

His hands moved towards her thatch of hair and twisted the curls painfully for the second time.

The shock of the pressure on her newly-healed skin caused a tear to roll down her cheek.

"Aw, sorry," he spoke with no remorse, "Did I hurt ya? Aw, well let old Jim kiss it and make it all better."

With that, he plunged his face downwards between her legs, his intrusion painful and humiliating.

Sara tried to move away from him, but this seemed to heighten his pleasure.

Another moment, and he pulled his head away, his face wet with her juices.

"Mmmm…as good as I remember," he laughed as he plunged his tongue disgustingly into her mouth.

Pulling away with a satisfied "pop", Jim scowled at her for a moment and then gave her a smile that made her heart skip a beat.

"Mmmm…good loving always makes me thirsty."

Sara's eyes widened in fear as he looked at her with an evil grin.

"I could really go for a beer right about now…"

----------------

At that exact moment, Gil and Jim were finished their initial scan of the taxi.

"Nothing! Dammit, you know as well as I do that the first 24 hours in an abduction case are the most critical!" Brass spoke, his frustration causing him to snap.

Grissom remained silent as his mind flooded with images of Sara hurt, Sara calling for him, Sara crying out in pain.

His heart was pounding in his ears so loudly he barely heard Brass yelling into his communicator.

"I want units dispatched to my location on the double! "

"I don't care where you pull them from!"

"This case is _priority _on my say so! Now dispatch the damn units – we're running on very little time here!"

"The scene is getting cold as we speak , and our only lead is time sensitive."

"The clock is ticking –"

The rest of detective's rant escaped him as Grissom hung on to that phrase which caused all the gears to mess together to make his brain run into high gear.

_Running on little time…time sensitive…the clock is ticking…_

No sooner had Brass turned back to him than he found Gil in his face, almost panting with anxiety.

"I need to get back to the lab!"

Looking at Gil's face, Brass hated to tell him but…

"Gil, we need to stay put until the other units arrive. Dispatch pins their ETA about 20-"

"I don't HAVE 20 minutes. Give me your damn keys!"

Without another word, Brass handed over the keys for his cruiser as Gil raced towards it.

Watching as his friend started it without securing his seatbelt, Brass yelled, "Buckle up…and call me!"

Tires screeched as Grissom floored the vehicle and sped the short distance back to the lab.

The trip was made at breakneck speed with sirens and lights clearing the way, and within five minutes Gil all but sighed as he rounded the corner to pull up in front of the lab, leaving the lights swirling as he clicked the locks from the fob as he raced through the front doors.

Nick noticed Gil's expression, having seen that intensity only a few times while working on a breaking case.

Grissom raced towards Archie's lab with Nick hobbling along as swiftly as possible afterwards.

Slamming the door open, Gil moved towards a startled lab tech as he swept all the paperwork Archie had been working on from the work surface in front of him.

Pulling a business-sized card from his wallet, Grissom slammed it down in front of the tech and ordered, "Trace this – _now!_"

Nick caught up to Grissom and was stood behind him, his forehead scrunched as he tried to figure out what was happening without actually having to interrupt his boss.

Wordlessly, Archie pulled up the GSP screen and within a full minute had located a blip on the illuminated screen map.

"There," he said anxiously, not knowing the reason for Grissom to commandeer his computer but trusting in the supervisor's instincts.

"Hey," Nick said softly, pointing to the cross streets, "isn't that the old health club building over on the corner at Appian Way?"

Grissom's head snapped towards Nick, who continued to nod.

"Yeah, I joined there my first year in Vegas. It's abandoned now."

Gil's pulse was racing as turned again to note the full address Archie had pulled up onto the screen before taking off without a word.

The two men looked at each other in confusion, wondering what was going down.

Archie turned back towards the screen as Nick picked up the small card Grissom had thrown down onto the work surface.

Face up, there were numbers neatly scrawled.

On the back next to the date, in Grissom's distinctive handwriting, were the words "GSP installed – Sara's watch".


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: To those of you who share my love of a protective Grissom, I hope this pleases…more as soon as possible…thanks for the continued support of this story by such terrific readers and reviewers… -Kathy

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Brass paced anxiously after he ended his brief call from Grissom, having already alerted an officer at the diner that he was in need of transportation for the purposes of backup to a new location_ STAT_.

His worry increased as he wondered just how long his friend _would _be able to wait before charging into the building in search of Sara, even without backup.

Recalling the desperation in Gil's voice, his mind replayed the night of her first attack.

_Shit! Even with SWAT teams aiming at the scene, and me only yards away, the damn bastard still rushed the situation…this time, he's going to get himself hurt – or worse._

Still, Jim had to admire the determination in Grissom's actions as his one thought was of saving the young CSI who Brass had always suspected had stolen his friend's heart years ago.

As the cruiser's sirens could be heard in the vicinity, the detective pulled out his service revolver and checked that he had a fully armed piece.

_Let's just hope I don't have to use this_, he sighed before hopping into the almost stopped police car before yelling their destination to the officer.

-------------

At that moment, Gil having shut off the lights and sirens a block away, his borrowed cruiser was now rolling in silently through the opened gates of the off-street parking lot.

Coasting in slowly, his eyes searching for signs of activity in the apparently abandoned building, his trained eye spotted disturbed dirt and possible tire tracks near the steel garage door in the corner of the building.

Driving slowly back towards the alley, Grissom parked in the dead end court behind a forgotten dumpster and exited the vehicle without sound.

Pulling his service revolver taken from his two-second stop at his office following his departure from the AV lab, Gil took off the safety and shoved the piece into his deep jacket pocket.

Straining for any evidence of life inside the building, he moved back towards the suspiciously disturbed area of concrete in front of the large windowless doors.

Glancing around to be sure he was not detected, Grissom applied pressure from both outstretched hands onto the main plate of the garage door and pushed upwards – feeling it give a minute distance upwards.

_Unlocked. Someone must be in there!_

Continuing his search of the perimeter, Gil squeezed himself alongside the building finding himself almost squished between the high chain-linked fence and the harsh brick façade of the two story edifice.

Ahead, he could see what he thought might be a crack in the boarded up windows.

There were few street-level windows, but only one seemed to emit a soft shadow.

_Lights on inside an abandoned building? It could be just some homeless person…_

Grissom didn't know whether finding an indigent would make him sigh with relief, or pound his head against the wall in frustration.

Either way, he needed to track down the source of that glow.

--------------

Inside the structure, Sara shivered with both cold and terrorized anticipation.

"Old Jim" had left her for what seemed like hours, although it hadn't been more than ten minutes.

He had tied her arms tightly above her head with her legs spread apart and strapped down to something on either side of this frigid table.

Aside from his disgusting overtures, he had actually done little else beside secure her with the chaffing bindings to prevent her escape.

She was surprised he hadn't taped her mouth shut, but figured he had taken her to this god-forsaken place and wasn't worried about anyone finding her.

Her eyes closed as she tried to hold out hope that somehow Gil would find her.

_He did last time didn't he?_

The ropes were cutting into the grafted skin and she could feel sensations like knife blades as some of the skin gave way through the pressure of the knots.

_What have I done? This is my fault I'm in this mess._

_Why did I run away from Gil?_

_I should have told Ecklie to go kiss his ass, and just quit the lab._

_Why didn't I try to find Gil?_

_He'll blame me for getting myself kidnapped and raped, and I won't blame him one bit._

_He'll blame me for leaving him, especially after I promised I wouldn't leave him again._

_He'll never want me now. I'm such a mess._

_But oh lord…I want him to find me…I want him to hold me…I need him to make this better…I can't do this alone._

Her thoughts were interrupted by the heavy door slamming open as Old Jim pushed against it with much exertion as he lugged in a large cardboard box.

Sara whimpered unconsciously as he set the container down harshly on the table…and she heard the clanking of glass bottles knocking into each other.

------------

Brass was two blocks away as tried to reach Grissom again, swearing when he received a prompt to leave a voice mail.

"Dammit, Gil," he swore as his fist hit the dashboard in frustration.

"Get us there _pronto!_" he bellowed and the officer placed a lead foot on the accelerator.

Grissom had turned of his cell phone to prevent his clandestine entrance through the side window from being detected.

Originally, he had just planned to remove the outer boards and scan the area from the outside.

That was before he spotted movement from the edge of the long hall.

Quickly replacing the boards and holding them in place with his body to block out any residual shadows, Gil had pressed his face to the cracks and watched from his vantage point near the drop ceiling as a figure moved almost in front of him before slamming into a large door not forty feet from where he was now standing.

Something about this figure seemed familiar, but Gil didn't waste time trying to discern where he might have seen him before.

Having removed the boards again, Grissom had successfully removed enough of a broken piece of windowpane, allowing him to maneuver the old inside latch to an open position.

While he moved quickly, his motions had been totally silent. He wasn't going to tip his hand and put Sara in more danger.

-----------

Inside the room, Sara's shirt hung open and her naked form was now being studied by her attacker as he walked around and around the table, leering to the point of drooling.

Sara waited for the inevitable, her body almost convulsive as she replayed her earlier attack and the pain associated with it.

Watching with an almost detached interest, a behavior gleaned from years of abusive childhood encounters, her eyes widened as he moved towards the container and brandished a beer bottle dripping with icy cold drops of moisture.

He hit the top of the bottle on the edge of the table, the sound causing an involuntary whimper to rise again from her lips.

The movement had removed the crimped aluminum top off the bottle, and Sara watched him down the entire contents in one long sip.

He trashed the empty by pitching it against the wall, the crash resounding through the almost empty room.

He laughed at her pained expression, and reached in to repeat the motions with a new bottle.

Grissom had his head slightly inside the raised window, straining for sounds of movement.

The sound of the first bottle breaking was almost like a gunshot, causing him to reach reflexively for his piece.

He listened again as the second bottle broke, and he could now discern the sound of mocking laughter intermingled with the tone of smashing glass.

Grissom's jaw tightened, but he remained in place as he had been directed by Brass.

Inside the room, old Jim was now reeking of fermented brew as he leaned over towards Sara, mockingly inquiring, "Oh, where's my manners? Would you like a beer, pretty girl?"

Sara found her head shaking vigorously in denial, her mouth unable to speak as she watched him draw another bottle from the case.

"Please," the whispered cry was barely heard.

"Sure, pretty girl. Whatever you want. You know, you and old Jim can party all night long," he laughed again as he moved towards her.

"NO!" Sara screamed. She knew he would probably kill her if she riled him sufficiently, and even death was a better alternative to the fate he had in store for her.

"Shut UP!" Jim yelled before slapping Sara hard enough to make her hear the vertebrae in her neck snap in adjustment.

Hearing Sara's wail was all the incentive Grissom needed to make his move.

Had he stayed in his perch one more minute, he would have seen Brass arrive at the parking lot in search of the cruiser Grissom had parked out of sight.

A muscular form such as Grissom's makes quite a racket as it enters a narrow window space hurriedly, and the sound of glass breaking in the corridor caused Sara's attacker to wheel around and run to his knapsack long ago forgotten on a corner divan.

Seeing old Jim pull out a revolver, Sara screamed out, "He's got a gun!"

Within a few steps, old Jim returned to Sara's side and this time he slapped the side of her head with the butt of his revolver, causing her to cry out in pain as blood began to gush from her head wound.

As luck would have it, at that exact moment, Grissom kicked in the door without waiting to see that it had been closed but unlocked.

The first thing he saw was the butt of this maniac's gun hit Sara in the head.

The next thing he saw was red.

Strange things happen to a man when he is faced with seeing violence directed to a loved one.

The adrenaline rush that pumps through his body turns sinew and tissue into steel.

The mind loses focus on anything but protecting that loved one from future harm.

And moving to the utter decimation of the person responsible for incurring that harm.

Sara watched her attacker's surprise as Grissom almost flew at him, knocking his gun from their position mere centimeters from her face.

Her head was spinning from the concussive blow, but her mind was reeling at the look on Gil's face as he pummeled old Jim's lanky form with such power that Sara almost believed the man would snap in half.

After several blows to his midsection, Grissom yanked this man's hair upwards which caused the blood already gushing from his mouth to now drool from the spaces between his missing teeth.

But what caught Sara's attention was the quick glance at Gil's glare.

He was almost unrecognizable to her.

The kind, scholarly, brain over brawn scientist she had come to know and love was replaced by this vigilante she couldn't identify.

The sheer hatred oozing from blue eyes now almost black with anger made Sara call out to him.

"Gil, please."

But he was on autopilot, battering this man who had long since given up the battle for consciousness.

On and on his fists flew as expletives were now directed with every blow.

Sara knew without a doubt that if someone couldn't reach him, he was angry enough to kill this man for what he had done to her.

Terror again seized her heart, as she refused to be the reason he took someone else's life.

She knew when his calm finally returned, he would not be able to live with himself for killing another human being, despicable though he may be.

Sara knew she couldn't be the cause of that.

"Gil! PLEASE!"

Somewhere outside, Sara heard voices and panic welled up inside as she thought old Jim may have friends who would come to hurt Gil.

Hearing Brass' deep tenor calling, "LVPD, come out with your hands up," Sara searched for a way to reach Gil before anyone else entered the room.

"Gil, _help me_!"

His fist poised in midair, the plea for help cut through the fog of his anger.

Grissom's eyes finally focused on the bloody, nearly unconscious form he had pinned against the wall.

He released the body from his grasp with a shove, watching with uncharacteristic pleasure as the man slumped into a limp blob onto the doorway.

In a heartbeat, Gil was at her side, removing his jacket to cover her lower extremities before moving to close a few buttons on her shirt.

By this time, Brass had entered with his gun raised, his eyes shooting back and forth in well-practiced maneuvers to secure the scene.

The sight of Grissom trying valiantly to preserve some form of dignity for an obviously wounded Sara just about broke his heart.

Kicking the assailant's gun well out of reach, Brass whirled around to the officer in the hallway to prevent him from entering the scene.

"Call EMS," he bellowed as he turned to cuff the still unconscious man at his feet.

While Brass dealt with the bloody prisoner, Gil was coming off his adrenaline high.

As often happens, the body shuts down to protect itself and give itself time to heal.

Breathing was becoming difficult, as was looking directly at Sara while he released her from her bindings.

_I almost killed the man._

_I _wanted _to kill him._

_I _would have_ killed him if she hadn't stopped me._

_I never felt that deep a rage before._

_What kind of animal must she think I am?_

_No better than the dirtbag who did this to her?_

_NO!_

_I'm not anything like him!_

_He hurt her!_

He hurt my Sara!

_I should have _killed_ him for what he did to her!_

As Gil was beginning to get spun up again, Sara was watching his breathing becoming shallower and his jaw tightening.

She knew he was trying to temper his anger with little success.

What could she say to tell him how glad she was that he had saved her from reliving a fate worse than death?

As near as they were to each other, their internal debates made both feel light years apart.

It wasn't until Brass pulled the nearly conscious man onto his feet that Gil lifted his head towards the criminal, his sneer belying his continuing need for satisfaction for what Sara had endured.

Gil's back was to Sara as he turned to watch Jim walk away with his prisoner.

She didn't need to see his face to know what was running through his mind.

Every muscle in Grissom's body was on high alert, his heart demanding his feet should follow the handcuffed man and finish the job.

So when the softest touch of Sara's hand was felt on his back, Gil reeled about swiftly with eyes narrowed in anger.

"Gil…I'm…_sorry._"

The plea was full of genuine remorse for what Sara felt was her poor judgment that led them to this point.

Suddenly, the need for revenge was replaced by the overwhelming desire to placate any misplaced sense of wrongdoing on the part of this tortured victim.

He leaned in until their faces were almost touching.

His fingers reached out with shaking movements as he softly caressed the bloody cut along her hairline, his heart shuddering at the implications of the bruise had it been a few centimeters to the left.

Their eyes connecting, his softly shaken head spoke volumes of his despair at her predicament and of his wonder at her survival.

Reaching for her hand, he held it tightly as if afraid to release her would mean to lose her.

After a moment, she returned the grasp as if to show him she understood that sentiment.

With silence engulfing them within their private moment, the nearby sound of a garage door opening to admit the paramedics was lost to them as they stared expressionless into each other's eyes, their tears mingling onto the union of their hands – and hearts.


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: I've loved having time to update these past few nights…but this is the last chapter until next week, as I am working tomorrow and going away without Internet access for the long weekend…your reviews and reader support have been just terrific…thought a lighter chapter was needed after all that angst…this update sets the stage for the next story twist…hope it pleases…more as soon as possible...all mistakes are mine…thanks for your patience!... –Kathy

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A referee.

A long, somewhat illustrious, career in law enforcement to his credit, and yet he'd spent the last 24 hours doing nothing more than finagling and finessing in an effort to keep Grissom and Sara from enduring any added stress.

Brass sighed as he took a second sip of Scotch which he had poured into a shot glass – just enough of a jolt to relax his tension somewhat without fully unwinding.

He was operating on a few hours sleep here in his office, having brought Sara and Gil back to his own home as Grissom had refused to allow them to force Sara to stay overnight for observation.

Now as he sat staring longingly at the empty mini-glass, however, Jim suddenly pulled open his desk drawer and tossed it in next to the bottle that he kept hidden for "emotional emergencies", slamming the lid with a flourish before he gave into the temptation to lick the shot glass clean.

His fingers drummed the desktop distractedly, his eyes unfocused as he recalled what a helluva time the last 12 hours had been…

------

At the crime scene, wanting to give Gil and Sara a moment, Jim strode quickly towards the ambulance as it shut off its engine.

_When it rains, it pours_ he thought as he watched the crew disembark.

"Hold it!" Brass spoke with authority as his hands waved a negative message in front of him.

"Oh, it's _you_," Hank spat as he moved to disregard the directive and step around the detective.

Using the paramedic's momentum, Brass grabbed onto the sleeve of Hank's uniform and spun him around effectively blocking his forward motion.

"_You_'re not going in there now," Jim spoke a bit louder, his tone making Hank's partner retreat to the cab to phone their dispatcher.

"You can't stop me," Hank growled as he jerked his sleeve from the older man's grip,"my job it to tend to the wounded and injured."

In his patented disarming tone, Brass regained the upperhand in the conversation by putting on a jovial smile and glaring at the idiot before him.

"Okay, how about I just shoot you in the foot and you can take care of yourself while I call for your backup?"

Hank was taken aback, silencing him enough for his partner to speak as he climbed down from the cab to reclaim his mute partner's kit.

"Dispatch is sending over another squad that's wrapping up a non-transport case in the vicinity. ETA's about 10 minutes."

Satisfied that Sara was not in serious condition, Jim was comfortable waiting for the alternate unit to arrive.

"Well," he sighed without removing his unblinking glare from Hank's still mute form, "guess this party's over, eh?"

Twenty minutes later, Jim had escorted the EMTs to the room where Sara lay resting as she curled on her side hiding her face in Grissom's shirt as he knelt protectively over her.

The lead paramedic's request for him to allow them access was met with Gil's terse, "I'm not leaving her."

Glancing over at Brass for some expected help in relocating this gentleman, the detective realized by Gil's posture that Sara needed him close by.

"Hey, let's just work on the other side of the table, capice?" he spoke calmly as he guided the paramedic gingerly around Sara's prone body.

The EMT nodded in a begrudging fashion, essentially ignoring Grissom while he went about taking Sara's vitals.

She refused to answer any questions, merely nodding or softly shaking her head against the security of Gil's strong grip on her shoulders as he had now eased her onto her back for a cursory exam.

When Sara flinched as the EMT pressed lightly on the blood encrusted wound that was now turning an ugly purple along most of her hairline, Gil swatted away the examiner's hand shouting, "You're hurting her!"

"Sir," the medic began, but a clearing cough behind him caused him to merely exhale deeply and continue his triage.

Flicking the light into Sara's eyes, the EMT moved closer to Sara to examine the pupil reaction.

But his proximity to her personal space caused her to tense in Gil's embrace.

This time, Grissom merely glared at the man as he pulled Sara a bit closer to him, ensuring that everyone could read the subtle message of his body language.

Noting the bloody bruising of the grafted skin around both her wrists and neck area, the medic reached out to grasp her arm for closer inspection.

The feel of another man's hands on her body was more than enough to push Sara over the edge.

"No! Get away from me! Don't touch me! DON"T TOUCH ME!"

All three men in the room were startled by Sara's desperate cry as her feet began to kick out defensively.

Gil's heart raced as he literally scooped Sara off the table and turned her towards the door.

The paramedic's move to block him was stymied by Brass moving in front of them both, separating them from each other and blocking both of their access to the door.

"She needs transport to the hospital, sir!"

"I'll take her there on my own. She's not in any condition to have you groping her!"

"Gil – you took my car, remember?"

The impasse pressed upon these three strong willed men for only a moment before Sara stirred in Gil's arms.

Sighing, Brass opened his communicator to report he was on his way to Desert Palms with an injured woman, requesting they alert the ER to their arrival.

The EMT scowled at being overruled, but Jim had bigger problems to worry about than the man's ego.

Ignoring Grissom for a moment, Brass moved behind Sara as he uttered in his most fatherly tone, "Hey, kiddo…let's get you something for that head injury, okay?"

He relaxed when he saw her nod slightly against Grissom's chest, causing the night shift supervisor to tighten his grip on the woman he loved before heading out the door with Brass still running interference with the argumentative paramedic.

The distance to the hospital was short as Jim continued to glance at the couple in his rear view mirror, neither of his passengers even aware that someone else was riding in the cruiser with them.

"Sara?" Gil asked worriedly as she refused to look at him despite his attempt to pull her back enough to examine her wounds.

She had not spoken since her outburst, a fact that worried both men enough to make the short ride seem interminably long.

Their arrival at the ER found a situation similar to that which Sara had just endured at the crime scene.

Once inside the treatment room, she was refusing to loosen her deathgrip on Grissom, and he was refusing to be separated from her.

Again Brass sighed mentally before placing thumb and forefinger between his teeth and whistling loudly, his actions causing all players in this drama to come to a standstill.

After flashing his badge and requesting that all medical personnel please step out into the hall, he cajoled the senior resident into personally handling the care of this injured woman who had just lived through a torturous experience.

Once he escorted the doctor back into the room, Brass turned off the overhead light immediately after the doctor clicked on the examination lamp of the bedpost.

The calmer environment seemed to soothe all parties, and the doctor showed surprising compassion for Sara's situation.

His bedside manner helped relax Grissom's anxiety, which in turn comforted Sara into allowing the most basic care to her head wounds and wrist lacerations.

Now bandaged and given something for pain which the doctor assured Sara would not incapacitate her, knowing that she had been drugged during her ordeal, the physician clicked off the light which caused the room to be enveloped in a soft glow.

Brass escorted the doctor outside to discuss his findings. Overall Sara seemed to escape her ordeal with only the physical injuries he had noted.

By law, of course, a full SAE kit was ordered and Jim again requested that a CSI perform the mandatory tests.

Seeing at how well the detective had called the shots so far, the physician agreed and Brass made the call, requesting Catherine to come and do the testing.

Imagine his irritation with Ecklie when a short fifteen minutes later, Sofia walked through the door of the ER , kit in hand, ready to comply with Brass' request.

_Shit_, he thought before redirecting Sofia's forward motion to a side hallway.

"Where's Catherine?" he asked a bit testily, _could this nightmare get any worse?_

Sofia scoffed at Brass and picked up her kit.

"Ecklie personally came to the breakroom and told me to get myself over here. "

Moving into Brass' personal space, she narrowed her eyes and said, "And here I am. Now, where's this victim?"

_Victim._

Hearing those words referencing Sara was the cause of great heartache for this man who loved her as if she were his own daughter.

To hear those words spat out in a possessive temper tantrum was almost too much for Jim to bear.

But before he got into a heated debate with Sofia over this issue, the matter was settled when a strong, emotional voice behind them spoke.

"I'll collect the kit myself."

Both Sofia and Brass wheeled around to find a sorrowing Grissom steeling himself for the task ahead.

"Gil-" Jim began, then as if he just remembered, he spun on his heels as he grabbed Sofia's kit. and after setting it down beside his feet, now pointed to the waiting room, brusquely intoning: "You can wait over there for a minute, Sofia."

Glaring at Brass, her countenance changed completely as she smiled empathetically at Gil, almost expecting that he would overrule Jim's decree.

As he said nothing, however, Brass moved and literally helped Sofia on her way.

When he turned back to continue his conversation, the hallway was empty.

Sighing deeply, Jim moved quickly to intercept Grissom , now carrying Sofia's kit, before he reentered Sara's room.

"I'm _doing_ this," Gil said with an uncharacteristic hesitation in his voice, as if he were forcing himself to perform a heinous act.

"You can't, Gil. You're too close. The evidence-"

Wheeling angrily as his emotions were spilling over, "Nobody touches her but me!"

The two men locked eyes for a lengthy moment.

Brass internally warred with himself_: _

_-_On one hand, if the DA found out that the kit was run by someone close to the victim, the evidence might be considered tainted and unreliable, and therefore inadmissible in court.

-On the other hand, Jim really couldn't find his way to allowing anyone –_ particularly _Sofia -to get that intimate with Sara at this point and time.

"Let me call Catherine myself," Jim tried again to make Gil understand the necessity of the request.

As Gil began to protest, Brass held up his hand with a compromise.

"Let Catherine do it, Gil…Sara's going to need you for moral support, right? You can hold onto her until the blasted kit is collected."

Reluctantly, Grissom agreed as he left the kit with the detective and returned to Sara's bedside

Once again, Brass had used his experience, his people skills, and his loyalty to this impromptu CSI family to ward off the conflict that threatened to engulf these people he truly cared about ...

---------------------

Allowing himself one more stretch, Brass pumped some breath spray into his open-mouth and pushed away from his desk.

Pulling a water bottle from his office cooler, he snapped off the cap and took several gulps before tossing it back in and dragging himself to the door.

Hand on the doorknob, Jim forced the images of Sara as he found her in the basement of that abandoned building.

It was time to switch off the peacekeeper mode and turn on the master interviewer.

Old Jim was waiting for him in interrogation.


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: Thanks for the terrific reviews and reader support for this story…this update is short, but made _me_ smile…hope it pleases…all mistakes are mine…-Kathy

-------------------

It had been several hours, but he continued to hold onto her tightly as she dozed.

After making sure they were settled, Jim had left Gil and Sara to themselves urging them to "make themselves at home".

Grissom had all but carried Sara to the couch, allowing her to stand briefly while he grabbed comforters and throw pillows from the settee to create a cocoon of comfort for her aching limbs.

Having settled her on his lap and deftly maneuvered the small pillows under her bandaged wrists, he tucked in the quilted blanket around her and leaned back slightly to give her breathing room while he cradled her in his lap.

But she burrowed determinedly into the safe harbor of that crook of his neck and shoulder, blocking out the world from which she now was desperate to escape.

They continued to sit wordlessly as without thought he rocked her slightly, his mind desperate to control the raging anger that was barely contained just below the surface.

_I wanted to kill him._

_He hurt my Sara!_

_I want to _hurt_ him, like he hurt her!_

_She didn't deserve it! Any of it!_

_I want him to pay – by my own hands!_

_I need to let go of this need for revenge, it isn't helping her._

_He's not worth it, he's not worth it – but as god is my witness, I want to _break _him!_

_I can't think about that anymore._

_I have to focus my efforts on helping Sara._

_My Sara._

_She needs me._

_And I can't do anything to jeopardize being here for her._

His arms enclosed her in a tighter grip, his lips grazing the top of her head as his eyes stared unseeing before him.

_I love her._

_But I can't bear the thought of what she's gone through._

_I should have protected her._

_I wasn't there for her – and that maniac almost killed her._

_But not before he had his "fun" with her…god, I want to _kill_ him for what he's done!_

He glanced down at the bruising that now lined the entire side of her face.

A passerby would cross the street at the rage displayed in Gil's eyes.

One finger came up to soothe the angry purple blotches leaking out from the large white bandage.

_I almost lost her._

_I don't know what I'd do if-_

Grissom was surprised by the sudden sob that escaped from his depths.

He could feel the wetness on his cheeks, but he refused to release his death grip on her sleeping form – even if only to wipe away his tears.

Instead he pulled her closer, allowing the softness of her tresses to soothe away the torrents of tears that refused to stop falling from his tightly closed eyelids.

_I could have lost her._

If asked, Gil could probably not define the exact cause of his uncharacteristic emotional display.

But then, Sara had always created havoc in his life in a way no other human being ever had.

Sighing on a shaky breath, Gil pulled himself back enough to press his lips firmly onto her forehead.

_All these years, pushing her away when all I really wanted was to pull her close like this and never let her go._

Never _wanted to let her go._

"I'll never let you go, Sara," the utterance no more than a whisper, yet the implication a resounding resignation to the new path Grissom's life was about to take.

Her whimpers broke through his musing, and he whispered softly to her, "Shh, I'm here, honey. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

Sara's eyes flew open, terror displayed in her large brown orbs.

His grip was steady, his voice reassuring, and her tension ebbed as she took in her surroundings.

Inwardly, he smiled at the comfort his mere presence brought to her as she fought to shake off the nightmare.

He looked down at her as if watching her for the first time, realizing all over again that she was the only woman he had ever really loved.

He wanted to be there for her – always.

His heart began pumping faster as he realized he had reached the point of no return in this relationship.

His mind dealt with the revelation as if he had just uncovered the key to one of life's mysteries.

He was totally, unabashedly, unbelievably in love with this woman!

And he wanted to be _everything_ to her.

_Her protector, her confidante, her friend, her lover …_

Gil looked thunderstruck as this truth unveiled itself to him.

Unaware of what was brewing behind those powerful blue eyes, Sara tilted her head upwards to look into his eyes.

What she found there was comfort, support, and another emotion that mirrored resignation.

Having all but pushed away his earlier anger, Gil's mind raced with a sudden overwhelming clarity.

He remained mute as his gaze bore into her, and attempted a small encouraging smile.

Gil suddenly found himself unsure as to how to deal with her reaction to his intense gaze.

His Sara, his strong Sara, disintegrated before his eyes into a puddle of tears.

Her tears were a mixture of overwhelming emotional fatigue, reaction to her nightmare, and a sudden resurgence of her deep-seated fear of abandonment.

He didn't know how long she cried against his strong chest, deep sobs wracking her too-thin form.

Yet, he held onto her as if his life depended on it.

And just maybe it did.

His voice broke as from somewhere deep inside Gil Grissom finally figured out what to do about _this._

Hand shaking as he brushed back her hair, his fingers brushed her cheeks to dry them slightly as his eyes encouraged her to look at him.

Really look at him.

He felt exposed before her and, perhaps for the first time in his life, he was ready to let someone all the way in.

Sara looked so vulnerable as she now lay facing him as she remained cradled in his arms, and it was all he could do to simply find his voice to speak.

Emotions choked his voice, causing him to force sound to be heard.

"I love you, Sara."

Silence hung over them now, as if those words had warped them into another dimension where sights and sounds were prohibited.

Neither blinked.

After a deep inhale, "I-…Sara-"

It was not unusual for this gifted speaker to stammer when trying to speak from the heart.

Sara's face immediately morphed into a well-practiced mask.

But her eyes belied the pain of preparing to hear the worst.

He recalled all the times he had seen this look in her eyes as he expertly pushed her away, keeping her at arms length in an effort to do what his cowardice termed was "best" for both of them.

When in truth, it had hurt like hell.

_So patient, yet fearful._

He realized after a moment that she had not taken a breath.

_She's waiting for me to say, "_but…"

Finally, Gil inhaled deeply and pulled himself to a fully upright position so that he was looking down on this woman who fate had dealt such a cruel hand.

She continued to stare without speaking, expecting that he was going to finally admit he couldn't do this anymore.

And she wouldn't blame him.

She knew all along she was out of his league, that it would be just a matter of time until he came to his senses regarding a relationship with someone so - _damaged_.

But she'd be sure to thank him convincingly for being there for her recently.

She'd smile and tell him not worry. She'd be fine.

Even though her heart knew she'd never _be_ fine without him to love her.

Gil clutched her more tightly to regain her attention.

It was now or never.

Sara tried to force a small smile to her trembling lips.

She loved him enough to let him go.

She only hoped she could hold it together for just a little while more.

The last thing she wanted was have a meltdown and for him to stay out of some perverted sense of feeling responsible for her.

She only ever wanted him to love her.

These thoughts were racing through her mind, causing her to be distracted from fully understanding his next statement.

"Sara – marry me."


	28. Chapter 28

A/N: Thanks to all who remain so patient for these updates…thanks to those who emailed asking about the story…there is more to come and I am hoping to get in another update in a day or two…this chapter raises an unanswered question to be revealed shortly…the pieces are beginning to fall into place…but first things first...hope this pleases…all mistakes are mine…more soon as possible for all you terrific readers and reviewers…- - Kathy

----------------

Jim Brass moved confidently towards the interrogation room.

He had the bastard in custody, and he planned to nail his ass for what he did to Sara.

The detective's mind was steeled with impatience, focused on getting a confession for the suspect's role in the multiple arson cases as well.

As he moved down the hallway leading past Ecklie's office, Jim's thoughts detoured to the last time he had moved in this direction – just in time to save Sara from an unsavory encounter with the lab director.

His blood boiled at the recollection just as a suggestive giggle brought his forward movement to a standstill.

Brown leather shoes screeched to a halt before the semi-closed door, rough hands pushing the door open in a release of some pent-up anger.

Ecklie scowled, the blonde stood from her perch on the edge of the desk, and Brass glowered shamelessly in their direction.

"Ecklie," Brass snarled followed by a glare in the woman's direction, "in private – _now!_"

The woman left without a backwards glance, and as she moved through the now-opened doorway she felt the breeze of motion as it slammed forcefully behind her.

NOBODY_ ignores me, you prick! You'll _pay _for that, Brass_, the blonde fumed as she proceeded towards the Break Room.

Inside Conrad's office, the air had turned several degrees colder with the glares emanating from both men.

"What the hell is this, Brass?" Ecklie spoke as he sat down and began shuffling papers in an effort to keep his opponent at bay.

Moving swifter that could be expected by a man of his years, Jim planted his hands on the desk edge with a thud, causing Ecklie's eyebrows to shoot up as he assessed the threat to his person.

"Sara Sidle – that's what!"

At the mention of her name, a sneer unconsciously formed on Conrad's lips – without a doubt the disregard in which he held the young CSI displayed on his features.

Brass was in no mood for the next question.

"What's she done _this_ time?"

The next thing he knew, in an awareness akin to an out-of-body experience, Ecklie found himself hauled easily from his chair and his bones now painfully slammed against the wall.

"_SHE_ has done nothing wrong, but _as usual_ ,you bastard, you're just not going to cut her a break!"

Their eyes met, causing Conrad to become mute as although the detective was of smaller stature he now totally had the upperhand in this confrontation.

"You caused this, _Con_rad. She has done _nothing _to you, except maybe have the good sense to keep you at arm's bay when all you wanted was a quick roll in the hay!"

This statement caused the lab director to give Brass his full attention. _How did he know about Sara's persistent refusal of his advances?_

"You upset her, you dog – _badly_ upset her. She left here. She was taken hostage. She-"

The words would not come.

Both men remained eye-locked.

There were no tears in Jim's eyes. The anger pushed out any semblance of emotional response.

But Conrad could read between the lines.

He licked his lips anxiously, almost afraid to ask the question.

"Is she…"

The image of finding Sara with Gil hovering over her, attempting in vain to cover her naked form was almost too much to bear.

Releasing Ecklie harshly, Jim moved towards the door.

"I have the suspect in custody. I'm going bury him in jail time with everything the law will allow."

His hand still on the doorknob, he turned to a downcast Ecklie before leaving with one parting shot.

"And then I'm coming back to take a piece out of _you_."

------

Still cradled in his embrace while he hovered over her, Sara continued her quiet recitation of assurances that sounded as if she were trying to convince herself of the truth of her thoughts.

Gil's smirk turned into a broader smile as he realized she was once again overtalking around him and hadn't heard a work he said.

Careful to not disturb the bruising, he silenced her rambling with a passionate kiss that was finally broken only to be replaced by a less intense meeting of lips, which caused Sara to unconsciously sigh, and finally the slightest peck of her smile before Gil pulled back to look into her eyes.

"I think that was backwards," he spoke almost shyly.

When she looked at him in confusion, he leaned down and repeated the sequence of their first kiss as she lay in her hospital bed.

A soft peck, a more languid kiss, and finally a passionate pressure that lingered until the need to breathe became apparent.

Leaning back, he pulled her along with him. "That's better, I think."

Sara's smiled in response.

His fingers caressed her injured face, softly moving through her brown locks where he threaded through to grasp her head gently to lock their gazes.

His heart was racing as he felt he would burst if he didn't get her answer soon.

"I remember our first kiss," he said softly, and found himself unable to blink lest he lose sight of her adorable eyes for one moment.

In truth, the ugly bruising only served to highlight the damage her once-silken skin had endured.

One complete side was scarred from the flames at that horrible arson that now seemed a lifetime ago.

The other side was now bruised and would possibly bear the scars for the rest of her life.

But those eyes – he could drown in them.

Others might notice the burns and bruising immediately when they looked upon this woman.

But all he could see was those eyes, reflecting a truth in them that made him want to fling open windows and shout to the world that Gil Grissom was loved by Sara Sidle.

And now in this moment, he couldn't imagine living without seeing that reflection every day for the rest of his life.

Sara's voice was small and unsure, as yet unaware of where this conversation was going.

"Do you …regret?"

He answered as softly, "I have many regrets."

She nodded in understanding. Breathing deeply, she prepared herself for what was sure to come next.

"Things change," again she spoke softly, falling back on her long-held practice of giving him a way out when she felt his unease.

Gil's arms tightened around her, unaware that now they were having two distinctly different conversations.

"That's inevitable, don't you think?" he said as he pulled her closer to him although her face was now hidden from him.

Sara shrugged, her voice almost unheard by her own ears over the sound of her heart breaking.

"You've – you've been wonderful to me," she began, hoping he could just tell her and leave so she could begin dealing with the sorrow of being on her own.

Unseen by Sara, he smiled at her words.

Taking a deep breath, he managed to get out "Sara-" ,but as always happens when he tries to talk to her about his feelings, the thoughts overwhelmed his speech center and he found himself momentarily mute.

Sara took his hesitation as not knowing how to let her down easily. She took pity on him and closed her eyes before speaking again.

"I just want you to know I'll never forget how you've been there for me," she said with a voice surprising strong for the quivering of her lips.

"I'll always be there for you, Sara, whenever you need anything you just need to tell me," he promised, resting his cheek against the top of her hair.

He was envisioning pillow talk after they made love on his king-sized bed, while she was imagining tossing and turning on her lonely queen-sized mattress as she grappled with the aftermath of another nightmare -wanting so badly to hear his voice but refusing to seem so needy she would actually call him.

She relished the feel of safety in his arms, committing his actions into mind to add to her collection of "Grissom memories" that never failed to keep her afloat in her loneliest hours.

Gil felt complete sitting there with Sara wrapped in his arms.

He was relishing the moment, allowing her to finish all she needed to say before looking into her eyes and asking her to be his forever.

He had been so wrapped up in his plans for their future that at this moment his whole being resounded with an adrenaline-surge of happiness.

However, Grissom's bubble of happiness instantly burst into flames as his euphoria evaporated upon hearing Sara's next words.

"Can you-…could…would you just stay tonight? With me? Just until Jim gets back at the end of shift? I-I just…would you?"

His embrace instinctively wrapped her closer, as if someone had just attempted to remove her from his arms.

"Oh, honey," was his first reaction, which she quickly attempted to stop.

"I- I'll be okay, really…it's just that - tonight-…I'm just asking for tonight, Gil..please…just one more night…"

His eyes clouded with tears as his head shook violently.

_Leave her? I could never leave her! She can't mean it! I don't want to live another day without her!_

_She is my one and only love. I almost lost her today. I don't think I could have gone on…_leave _her? NO!_

"No, Sara."

His voice was calm, but Sara's eyes missed the pain the mere thought of leaving had caused him.

His comment made her eyes slam shut, refusing to allow one tear to fall until he was gone.

"I understand," she spoke, the last syllable slightly shaken as she reigned in her panic at being abandoned all over again.

At that, he realized she really had no understanding at all of what he was trying to say.

As he started to push her away slightly, Sara perceived his action as his signal that he was about to leave.

In all her life, she had always felt powerless and had merely allowed anyone she loved to just walk away from her without causing much of a reaction.

This time, however, she clung to him in an attempt to hold onto the security of his proximity just a few minutes more.

"Sara," he spoke softly, wanting her to release her grip on his shirt so he could pull her back enough to speak to her face.

But now she felt her panic rise as her heart rate was increasing, knowing that she would rather die right here than voluntarily release him only to watch him walk away and leave her…leave her _alone_.

"Please," she whispered hoarsely, adrenaline supplying a strength that made her grip immovable.

"Sara, honey, look at me," he cajoled, but she refused to look at him.

Leaning back, he pulled her along with him, now a bit frightened at her erratic behavior and shallow breathing.

_Panic attack? What is happening here? I'm holding her close one minute, the next she is almost begging me to stay?_

_Oh god, she thinks I'm leaving her!_

Tightening his grip, he began to rock her slightly wondering how to convince her to relax and listen to him.

Closing his eyes against his own rising tears, he continued to slow his rocking motion as he prayed he'd find the right words to reach her.

Finally, he stopped rocking and held her close as he spoke in a calming stage whisper.

"Once upon a time, there was a man who felt he had his life all figured out.

He was smart, he was good at his job, and people from all over the world told him how they admired him.

But every conference, award banquet, and department affair he went to, he sat alone.

Oh, he sometimes had asked a woman to go with him, but it was never really a date. And she would grace his side for dinner before moving on with someone else in attendance.

He didn't mind. After all these women – they were just window dressing so the other people couldn't figure out -- wouldn't know-- his _secret_."

Gil waited a breath, and when he realized she was not going to ask, he gently pried her softened grip from his shirtfront and leaned her back against his crossed leg.

His eyes roamed over her face taut with sadness, and he instinctively brushed some errant strands behind her ear as he asked gently, "And do you know what his secret was?"

This time, Sara raised her eyes to meet his with an almost imperceptible shake of her head in reply.

His hands smoothed more strands as he stroked her hair without breaking eye contact.

"His secret was that every night he would lay his head on his pillow – and pray that one day he would find a woman who loved him. _Really_ loved _him_.

Not the genius.

Not the award winning scientist.

Not the graveyard supervisor who helped the lab become number two in the country.

But a woman who would come to know the sad little man who lay alone on his bed every night, and who woke alone every day."

Sara's eyes blinked slowly, and when she reopened them he was staring at her with eyes so full of love they made her gasp.

Gil strengthened his hold on her head, bringing her lips closer to his so he could kiss them first softly, then a bit harder, and then most passionately.

When he pulled back, he kept her face close as he continued to speak.

"That woman is you, Sara.

It always has been you.

And I will regret to my dying day the time I have wasted trying to push you away.

But I am done with that part of my life, Sara.

I only want to concentrate on the happy years we will have together, my love."

He stopped speaking a moment, hoping she would consider all that he had just spoken to her.

Her eyes stared at his a moment, drifted slightly towards his lips, before the reality of what he had just said hit her like a ton of bricks.

Her eyes shot up to his, and an amused smile morphed onto his face.

Nodding slightly, he brought her closer to him as he spoke.

"Sara …my Sara…you are the only woman who has seen behind the façade. I love you, honey.

I never want to be without you in my life again.

I only know that you make me happy. And I love you.

Sara – will you marry me?"

Sara's eyelids fluttered closed. She was sure she had a brain aneurysm that just broke.

Surely, he didn't just ask her to _marry_ him!

_Marry?_

_Gil Grissom?_

_Gil Grissom wants to marry_ me?

"Marry…_me?_" her voice was hoarse with disbelief.

Gil smirked, inwardly enjoying how his proposal had flustered the usually unflappable Miss Sidle.

"Well, I know I'm not the _best_ catch out there, Sara…but what can I say? I love you. Now…what do _you_ have to say?" he coaxed a bit anxiously despite his playful tone.

Sara's hands flew to her face, and Gil moved immediately to embrace her shaking shoulders.

"Sara…honey…it's okay, sweetheart…please don't cry…"

How surprised he was when her hands flew from her face to reveal the giddy laugh that emitted from her face-splitting grin.

"Oh, my god…yes…yes, o god, yes…yes…oh, Gil…yes…but-"

Any doubts Sara was about to express from her quivering lips would have to wait for a while.

Her new fiancé had different plans for those lips at that moment…


	29. Chapter 29

A/N: Happy Halloween! …This is a shorter chapter, but wanted to post today…no GSR moments in this one, yet the plot line moves forward significantly in this chapter…hoping to post again tomorrow (as it is World Series weekend – go Yankees!), with more GSR moments…thanks for all your encouraging and supportive reviews and wonderfully loyal readers for this fiction…if you haven't checked out Grissom1's new story _**About This **_make sure you read it soon – it's a keeper, as are all her stories…hoping to find more time to write this week…your patience is humbling, and I am thankful for such terrific readers like you…all mistakes are mine…more soon, promise… -Kathy

-----------------

Old Jim sat back, seemingly enjoying being the center of attention.

Although, for those who knew Detective Jim Brass, they would advise _against_ the type of attention he was giving the suspect.

His usual calm façade cracking under the cryptic responses to his inquiries, Brass pushed himself up from his seated position with such force the chair behind him toppled to the ground.

Again, the smirk that formed on the suspect's face was taunting the policeman to just try to do something about it.

"Tell me, why did you follow CSI Sidle to the diner?" Jim tried again, the words forming a picture in his mind that caused his blood pressure to increase a notch.

Leaning back and crossing his legs, Old Jim just smiled and licked his lips suggestively.

Just then, the door opened and the clatter of Nick's crutches was heard before he stepped fully into the room.

His glare caused the prisoner to take note, but there was not change in his body language to indicate his concern.

Nick's glare sent daggers towards the man in custody as he now stood next to Brass and slammed a file down onto the table, flipping it open heatedly.

"We were able to match all the prints at Sara's crime scene – they came back a match to your suspect here, Brass."

Both men were taken by surprise as Old Jim let out a howl of laughter.

"I want a lawyer, cop – you ain't pinning no rape charges on me. That little bitch paid me for a good time. _She'_s the one who asked for it – begged me for it…hell, I was just giving the little whore what she _wanted_!"

While the officer in the room moved to hold back Brass, he was not quick enough to catch Nick, as with three strides he was now standing behind the suspect – holding him in a choke hold with one of his crutches."

"Shut your damn mouth, ya hear? _Shut it_ – or I swear you won't be able to speak again, I _swear_ to you!"

The whole scene was a nightmare: The officer trying to calm Jim, Brass shouting at Nick, Nick restraining the suspect with his crutch lodged squarely under his Adam's apple, Old Jim struggled and squeaking out about police brutality…

The door to the interrogation room slammed open suddenly, causing all action within to cease.

All eyes flew to the figure looming in the doorway, flanked by Sofia and Terri.

"What the HELL is going on in here?" boomed Ecklie's most terrifying tone.

"Stokes, release the prisoner or find yourself locked up alongside him!"

Anger still controlling his actions, Nick pressed his lips to Old Jim's ear and whispered threateningly, "This isn't over…by a long shot."

With a final shove, he pushed back to the wall and inhaled deeply to try and calm himself, glaring confrontationally at Ecklie.

The police officer had moved away from Brass upon Conrad's entrance, and Jim tugged on the lapels of his suit coat in an effort to maintain control of the situation.

Everyone was overtalking now in an effort to explain the situation, and that meant no one was observing the change in Old Jim's attitude.

Having observed the trio in the doorway, his gaze suddenly was downcast and, if one looked closely, his hands were shaking a bit.

Finally, Ecklie raised his hands and everyone else in the room quieted.

"Has this man been read his rights?" Conrad addressed Brass.

The question may have seemed trivial, but Jim understood that if Miranda had not been served on this suspect, the man would lawyer up and the department would be liable for injuries sustained under questionable confinement.

Satisfied that Brass had conducted the interview by the book, the next question was,"Did he request counsel?"

Inhaling deeply, Jim looked at Nick before beginning his answer, "The suspect-"

"I-I-I don't ne-need no damn _law_yer! " Old Jim looked up at the wall, refusing to face the people standing opposite him.

"I-I-I was there, it happened…like ya said…all me…i-it was all me…just take me to my _damn cell_!"

Daring a peek at Brass, he finished loudly, "I wanna go right NOW, dammit!"

Still reeling from this change of attitude, Brass motioned to the officer in the room, "Cuff him and take him to holding."

Conrad moved into the room, unaware now that Sofia and Terri had turned and now were leaving the area.

"Do you feel you are in need of medical assistance, sir?" he inquired, all the while running down the checklist that IAD would interrogate him about later when charges surfaced.

Old Jim sneaked a peek at the doorway, his courage returning as he found the women gone.

"Just my medicine. I'll need my medicine before nightfall."

"What, a six pack and a bottle of 'Beam?" Nick couldn't help but blurt out.

Old Jim wheeled around, his actions causing a wince from the pain of his shackled wrists.

He opened his eyes wide and oogled the young Texan.

Pointing to indicate the heavy yellow cast of his eyeballs, he spat angrily in Nick's direction,"These babies aren't glow in the dark on their own, _sonny._ "

Turning towards Conrad, "My liver's shot. I take medicine to keep the pain under control. I ain't got that much longer."

When silence greeted him, he twisted to look at each man in the room.

"What – you don't believe me? Well, screw you!"

Perhaps it was the pain from Nick's crutches, perhaps the liquor high was wearing off, or perhaps for the first time Old Jim knew he had little chance of beating this rap, but suddenly a tremor seized his body as he spoke angrily.

"Check my coat, you'll see the bottle of pills I need. Call your own damn doctor. Just get me my pills!"

He was still protesting as the officer led him down the hallways, Old Jim's voice getting quieter as as his eyes searched the lab techs and officers who were crowding near the doors to observe the prisoner being led to his cell.

Nick thought that it was odd to see Old Jim almost worried that someone was watching him, yet he pushed that thought to the back of his mind as he prepared to deal with Ecklie.

Oddly enough, Conrad wiped his hand over his face and spoke almost calmly to the two men as his eyes betrayed an emotion most men were not used to seeing from the lab director.

"Get me your incident reports as soon as possible. I'll deal with IAD if need be…"

Brass and Nick waited for the other shoe to fall.

Their surprised registered on their faces when Conrad merely stated, "We got him…now, maybe she'll-"

With that thought hanging in mid-air, Ecklie turned and strode quickly down the corridor towards his office.

Jim looked at a confused Nick, wondering again about the mystery of Conrad Ecklie.

Nick picked up the file and handed it to Jim.

Brass smiled a bit, his muscles loosening as the reality of their suspect's confession hit home, and teased Nick a bit.

"Hey, thanks for the file and all – but I thought you were out on - _leave_?" Jim inquired, deciding not to press too hard, knowing that Nick had not fully come to terms with his feelings of abandoning Sara at the original arson scene.

Nick was riding high, though, at his hand in getting a full confession from the old geezer, and chose to play along.

"Yeah, well – once a CSI, always a CSI…besides, man, I could do your job in my sleep!"

They both laughed and Brass patted Nick on the shoulder before moving to open the door for him as he swung the crutches towards the open hallway.

Jim watched as the young CSI moved to chat with the inquiring lab techs

Smiling as he tapped the file on his opened palm , Brass suddenly turned towards his office.

There was a phone call he needed to make…

--------------

An hour after the hubbub in the interrogation room, footsteps moved towards the cell where old Jim lay restlessly on his cot.

He had been experiencing some pain since his altercation with Nick, and after several tries at getting comfortable, he was now laying on his cot with his head towards the cell door and his legs pointing to the cinderblock wall on the far end of the dimly lit cell.

His position allowed him to rest away from the glare of the brightly lit hallway and to focus on the dim rays that were emitted from the embedded light fixture over the sink.

His eyes drifted closed as his body began the pain of withdrawal as it was several hours past his last fix of the narcotic she had procured for him from the hospital pharmacy.

Although he was almost asleep, something in his environment changed so abruptly that his eyes opened fully – to find himself bathed in dark shadows.

Before his mind could fully comprehend what was happening, he heard the click of a key as his cell door opened and slid sideways with a creak.

His movements slowed by the pain wracking his joints, Old Jim found himself shocked immobile as his slightly turned body stilled at the sight before him.

"I-I-I…didn't…won't say nothing…" he stuttered, but any other sounds were muffled by intruder's hand flying up to silence him.

Without a sound, the thin-boned wrist turned to extend an open palm which contained two large capsules.

Grinning now, Old Jim sat up fully, grabbing the bottle of water that lay open on the floor next to him.

Swallowing the capsules, his eyes closed in relief.

He took a moment to experience the sensation of the water trickling down his throat, conveying the pills into his digestive tract.

Relief was on its way.

Upon opening his eyes once more, his smile turned upside down as he found himself alone in the cell.

His head flew to the door as it clicked shut again.

He forced himself to his feet and pressed his face onto the bars just in time to see a tuft of blonde hair disappear around the corner.

He winced as the bright lights of the corridor suddenly reappeared.

The lights were overpowering, and old Jim found himself swaying slightly from their intensity.

He stumbled a bit as he moved back towards his bed, expecting that rush of relief as his body absorbed the chemicals which had kept him on a narcotic high these past few months since his abrupt departure from that facility.

But the rush he now experienced was not one of relief, but rather of blinding agony.

Reaching for the bottled water once again resting on the floor, his vertigo increased so that his body slumped forward harshly, his wrist snapped by the crushing weight of his body collapsing onto his almost outstretched hand…

An hour later, as Al Robbins moved down the hallway with the guard in tow, little did he expect that his "full physical exam" of the prisoner would soon be conducted over the autopsy table…


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: This was not the chapter I started out to write…yet these two keep whispering in my ear and they often take the story where I never expected it to go…in rereading, I feel this is an important chapter if they are to move ahead…I expect to continue with Brass' phone call in the next chapter…more is coming soon, and that's a promise (despite the extra hours at work)…your reader support and reviews continue to amaze me, and you will never know how much I appreciate the time you terrific readers take to follow this story…pleasing may not be the right word to use here, but I hope you will walk along with them as they come to acknowledge the last of the roadblocks to a real relationship…more soon…all mistakes are mine… -Kathy

___________________

Contentment blanketed the loving couple, and without their realization soon both were lulled into a deep slumber.

The day's events had taken their toll on them.

Clinging to each other as Sara nestled comfortably on Gil's lap had given them hope that they might put the pain behind them and focus on a brighter future together.

But at this moment, their sleep would reveal the depth of the healing they both needed to work towards before each could ensure a happy ending to their love story.

_He stood on the shore of the crystal clear lake, a soft breeze wafting the orchid-strewn sands._

_Hovering over the beribboned lattice of the wedding arch, two white doves cooed and glided happily in the cloudless, sun-filled sky._

_The scene was made perfect as he turned to see her approaching._

_Seemingly attired in only layers of billowing ivory silk, her chocolate brown locks curled beautifully as they were buffeted by the increasing power of the winds moving in from the waves._

_She was near now, and he stretched out his hand to claim hers._

_Just a few more steps, and Sara would be his forever._

_Yet, the clouds moved in swiftly, dulling the sun while the winds increased, and he watched as she struggled to reach him, panic beginning to grow in her widening brown eyes._

_He heard her call for him, watched her straining to grasp his hand as his name fell from her trembling lips, but his feet were cemented in place._

_She needed him._

_His voice was silenced by the sounds of the crashing waves spilling onto the shore, eroding the sands to the point where the landscape was changing, no longer able to support the arch as it collapsed and shattered before being swept out to sea._

_His eyes flitted around him, anxiously scouring the area for anything that would help him pull away from this space and rescue his love._

_All movements ceased as his eyes fell upon the muddied sand – and two lifeless bodies of the doves which only moments ago played happily together._

_Her screams flushed him with terror as now his head whipped around towards her to reveal his love in the clutches of a hooded figure that was pulling her towards the thicket._

_She needed him._

_Large hands were tearing at her bosom, ripping layer after layer of silk and dashing it thoughtlessly to the ground as she was being taken farther and farther away._

_Layer after layer discarded until the intruder's intentions became sickeningly apparent._

_Yellowed eyes danced evilly as his hands roved suggestively over her torso._

_Challenging him to try and prevent what would happen next._

_She needed him._

_But he found himself totally impotent, feet mired in the sand despite his best efforts to reach her in time._

_One layer of silk left._

_The darkness of the thicket mere feet away._

_The bastard was taking her away from him._

_Anger swelled from his depths._

_That sick sonofabitch was planning to away what was rightfully _his _- the gift of her intimacy._

_They were meant for each other._

_He had known that in his heart since the day he first set eyes on her._

_Yet he had waited so long, denying his feelings for her._

_Suddenly, he had been given a second chance._

_He had figured out what to do about _this_._

_He loved her without concern for all the roadblocks to the relationship that once seemed so important to him._

_Yet now, he found himself unable to have his happy ending._

_In one depraved act, this figure would now contort what should have been the joining of two bodies in love into something cheap and dirty._

_How would she ever want him to touch her after experiencing this sacrilege to the marriage bed?_

_She was screaming for him to help her, to save her._

_She needed him._

_But he was unable to help her._

_She was out of sight now._

_The sounds of her screams would haunt his waking hours for days to come._

_He couldn't protect her._

_She needed him._

_He had failed her._

_She would never want him now._

"_I'm sorry, Sara..."_

He continued to mumble the last thought over and over, tears streaming unbidden from under sleep-controlled eyelids.

Despair clutched at his spirit, and his arms mechanically encased her tighter in his arms.

Had he been awake, he would have been conscious of her shivering in reaction to her own nightmare.

_They cuddled on the patio, snuggling happily as their towel wrapped bodies warmed each other after exiting the pool._

_She ran her fingers slowly over his manly chest, happy for the knowledge that now she could do this whenever she wished._

_He smiled down at her and kissed the top of her head._

_Her eyes closed in contentment, and she felt him adjust her in his arms until she was cradled comfortably._

_Even before she opened her eyes, she was aware that something was not right._

_It was the feel of her bikini top strap being pushed aside that caused her eyelids to fling open questioningly._

_The lids continued to open wider as recognition set in._

_Pinned against the side of the chaise lounge, the figure moved over her possessively._

_Two yellow eyes danced evilly above her as in one motion his hands ripped the damp nylon effortlessly from her body._

_Her mouth opened to call for the one man who had promised to keep her safe._

_She pleaded for him to help her._

_But her cry was crushed by the invasion of a sour-tasting tongue past her open lips._

_He tasted of liquor, or cigarettes – and beer._

_The scent lingered on her taste buds, wafted up until it filled her nasal passages._

_Bile crept upwards, but the need to secure her release forced it back down as she began to struggle with her captor._

_His laughter sounded cruel and terrifying, and she thought she'd never rid herself of that sound until the day she died._

_Her struggle continued, every spare breath that wasn't covered by the attacker's mouth voiced a cry for her love to come to her, to help her._

_She pleaded for him to come._

_Her suit bottom released without effort, and she found herself shivering with anticipation of what was to come._

_Suddenly, her naked form felt cold as the hovering figure moved away._

_Her eyes searched but he was gone._

_Terrified of his return, she quickly ran into the house and locked the door._

_Screaming for help, she ran through the house checking what must have been one hundred closed doors._

_At each she would jiggle the door handle, banging her flat hand desperately as she called out his name._

_In the distance she could hear him, and the thought that he was near soothed her somewhat._

_Still bare to the world, she felt vulnerable and scared._

_Some doorways caused her skin to crawl, and she backed away in terror as voices from her past tried to lure her inside._

_Her father, her second foster father, her Anthropology professor, her graduate school crush, Hank – the men who had physically raped, abused, or forced themselves on her throughout her life._

_She needed to keep them locked away._

_She would not let them keep her away from finding her one and only._

_She continued down the darkening stretch of hallway._

_She continued to cry out to him._

_She could hear him gently calling her._

_Finally, she was sure she had reached him._

_She jiggled the handle, pounded on the door._

_She could hear him calling her from the other side._

_Pushing the door open with such force that it splintered upon hitting the back wall, she entered the room._

_He lay there on the bed, covers stretched over him._

_His reaction to seeing her became readily apparent as she watched the sheets tent over his arousal._

_He beckoned her with a sickening smile._

_She froze._

_He called to her a bit more harshly._

_She found her head shaking slightly._

_With one fluid motion, he stripped the bed of the covers and stood with his hands firmly planted on his hips._

_He ordered her to come to him._

_She moved forward with some trepidation._

_When the finally stood face-to-face, she stuttered as she tried to explain what had just happened to her._

_Without waiting for her to finish, his hands moved out gruffly and forced her back onto the bed._

_Before she could protest, he entered her gruffly._

_Her hands clutched at the sheets painfully, her voice no more than a whisper as it begged him to stop._

_His movements were strong, his own pleasure apparently his only motive._

_Her eyes closed as she willed it to be over soon._

_It had been the same with all those other men who had hurt her in the past._

_He was to be no different._

_Yet as his movements stilled, she opened her tear-filled eyes to a new horror._

_She watched as the face of the only man she had ever loved was now morphing._

_She tried to scream, but her voice was suddenly mute._

_His smile was sinister as he pinned her with his gaze._

_She trembled as she watched his eyes change from the trusted blue to a sinister yellow._

_Her body shivered in terror as she watched him pull out of her – and reach for the ice cold beer that had appeared on his nightstand._

_She rolled herself onto her side, knowing her nightmare was not over._

_Her eyes were squeezed tightly together as helpless tears rolled down her cheeks._

_Somewhere behind her she could envision him swilling down the contents of the amber-colored bottle as she heard his voice almost trembling with softly spoken words._

"_I'm sorry, Sara…"_

Sara had turned in his embrace which he had tightened as the force of their nightmares kept them prisoner.

The words he continued to utter had caused Sara's eyes to fly open in panic.

Reflexes learned at an early age had caused her to lay deathly still whenever she woke from such a nightmare.

Taking stock of her current situation, she realized after a time that she was safe, that she was not alone, that it had only been a nightmare.

Vivid as it had seemed, the details escaped her quickly, leaving only the worry that somehow Grissom would be the same as all the other men who had ever entered her for sex.

And she never wanted to have sex with Gil Grissom.

No, since she had first met him, she was sure that this man would be the only one who could make love to her.

He would be the man she trusted to give herself to freely and with an open heart.

But now, as he clung to her almost possessively in his sleep, another shiver ran through her as she wondered if – just perhaps – that, too, would be just another lifetime wish that would never come true.

After the events of the last few weeks, however, she admitted to herself for the first time a real worry concerning the effects of the experienced horrors of the first rape and the events surrounding her kidnapping from the taxi.

She felt used and abused…and for the first time she wondered if her experiences had made her incapable of truly giving herself to any man – particularly this man she loved more than life.

"I'm sorry, Sara," she heard him mutter again.

A tear fell from her eye as she rested her head again on his forearm.

"So am I, Gil," she mouthed as her eyes closed in exhaustion.


	31. Chapter 31

A/N: More pieces of this puzzle are coming together, and the players are taking their places…I had hoped to update sooner, but better late than never…hoping for more by the weekend…thanks again and again for the continuing reader support and wonderful reviews for these chapters…you are all terrific indeed…publishing on the run, all mistakes again are mine…more soon as possible…hope this pleases…-Kathy

* * *

The ringing of his cell phone caused Grissom to startle awake.

Taking only a few seconds to realize where he was sitting, his eyes darted down to a sleeping Sara, herself now being jarred into consciousness.

He took in the evidence before him; his brow crinkled at the sight of her tear-streaked cheeks just as he realized his own face was damp with moisture.

"Grissom," he spoke in a husky tone as he first watched Sara attempt to sit up before he pulled her back down and smooth her hair lovingly.

"Damn – sorry to wake you, Gil. That was probably the first good rest you've had in the last two days."

"It's fine, Jim," responded Grissom distractedly as snippets of his nightmare flashed before his alert eyes.

"Well, this will be worth waking up for…we've got him, buddy, confessed during interrogation - with a little nudge from Nicky," Brass spoke, failing miserably at containing the joy of being able to make this announcement.

"Wait –_what_?" Gil sputtered, glancing at Sara who now was fully engaged in trying to hear Jim's words.

"Listen, just tear yourself away long enough to get down here and I'll explain everything. Just tell Sara… hell, Gil, just get down here, willya?"

Nodding without fully comprehending that Brass could not see the action, Grissom stared at Sara who was wide awake but trembling slightly as she waited for the delivery of bad news.

"Please," was all she could force out, and he reached for her until she melted into his embrace.

"We need to go," he started, but Sara jumped out of his arms and pulled herself to stand away from him.

"Where?" she said fearfully, and he could read the tension in her stance.

"Brass wants us at the lab…honey, relax…" he tried to speak reassuringly, but now she was pacing.

"**He**'s going to be there, _isn't _he?..._**ISN'T HE**_??" she all but yelled, her hand flying to her mouth as the thought of seeing her attacker again made the bile rush into her mouth.

Before Gil could stand she had raced to the bathroom, and in seconds he was behind her as she spewed forth the hot liquid that rose from her empty stomach.

"Take it easy, sweetheart," Gil murmured as he rubbed soft circles on her back, "just relax."

Sara's mind replayed scenes from her nightmare as she moved forward to remove his fingers from touching her body.

"Honey, relax, please…it's okay, it'll be okay," he continued his verbal attempts to bring her some comfort, backing away slightly as he was aware that she was tightly wound at the moment.

Shaking her head, she sighed quietly, "It will never be okay. Not anymore."

Gil deliberated for the briefest moment.

Would he allow the anxiety manifested in his dreams to paralyze him now, when Sara needed his strength?

_She needs me._

_She seems so lost._

_I need to be here for her._

_I need to help her feel safe, with me._

_Dammit! _

_I've failed her so many times in the past._

_I hope I _can_ be the man she needs me to be._

_I _**will**_ be the man she needs me to be!_

Disregarding the screams of her body language, without thought Gil pressed forward and yanked Sara to her feet, turning her to face him.

"_You_ are not alone, Sara…not anymore."

He moved his head downwards until he had captured her gaze as he continued to speak.

"_We _are going to talk to Brass…and it _is_ going to be okay, Sara…we're in this together, remember?"

When she didn't answer, he increased the pressure of his grip adding the slightest shaking motion, "Honey…"

Without warning, Sara flung herself towards him and began to cry as his arms tightened around her.

"Ssshhh," he cooed softly, wondering if she had been as victimized by a nightmare as he had been.

After a few moments, Sara calmed and Gil patiently held her until she felt confident enough to release herself from his grasp.

Unable to look at him, she pulled away – but he was not to be deterred.

"Hey," he said softly as he moved into her personal space and lifted her chin gently.

"S-sorry," was all she could mutter, but her next words were silenced by lips pressed against hers in a loving gesture.

"Don't , Sara– not with me…I want you to tell me how you're really feeling…tell me all of it…everything that makes you upset…these feelings…they can't continue to hurt you if we face them together…you know you can tell me anything, honey…I'm not going anywhere…I love you, honey," he begged but was only met with a questioning gaze.

"Please, Sara," he all but begged, yet he could see she was listening.

Finally, Gil inhaled and looked Sara directly in the eye.

"Do you trust me?"

He was a bit hurt when she didn't answer him immediately but, had he been party to the internal monologue that Sara was processing, Gil might have understood the delay.

His query was simple enough, yet in Sara's whole life she could not really say she ever knew anyone she would honestly say she trusted.

That was until she met Gil Grissom.

Even throughout the hell of all the years he had pushed her away, she was drawn to him inexplicably from the first moments of their initial conversations.

His dapper looks and shy demeanor escorted him past all the defenses Sara had erected from an early age when the people who were supposed to protect you became the ones who hurt you the greatest.

Sara thought that on every level she had _always_ explicitly trusted this man.

Softly, with a quivering lip, "Yes."

"Yes?" he asked softly, as if anxious that she would change her mind.

A bit more forcefully, "Yes, Gil. I do trust you."

He grinned , and it morphed into a full-fledged smile.

Hugging her to himself, he swayed slightly as he spoke.

"Well, that's good…that's great, honey…and I promise you," Gil's voice softened as he pulled her chin upwards to gaze into her chocolate brown depths, "I will do everything to keep earning that trust."

He kissed her with a peck, then a more languid meeting of the lips, followed by a firm and loving kiss.

"Let's go. Sooner we go-" he began.

"-sooner we get to come back here," Sara finished, her unease momentarily disguised with a brave front.

But Gil could see through her like an open window.

His hold tightened as he spoke, "I'll be with you all the time, Sara. Promise."

-----------

Chaos.

The entire lab and prisoner lockup area were in chaos.

A short-lived lockdown produced no evidence of a continuing threat.

Surveillance camera video was already being reviewed, but the blackout had caused only unrecognizable shadows to be filmed.

There was a slight blip at an earlier point in the day, which made Brass suspicious instantly that this was an altered tape.

All evidence pointed to an inside job.

The duty officer had been called out on a bogus assignment to the other side of the building, having been told that he was not to wait for the relief officer who was minutes away from serving as backup.

Jim raked his fingers roughly through the hairs on the back of his head.

_What a mess. IAD is going to have the department's head on a platter. _

Over the years, he had faced Internal Affairs investigations and survived.

No, it wasn't the suitcoats from downtown that worried him.

If Old Jim was offed by someone on the inside – then there had to be a connection with the bastard.

And that meant that Sara was not safe while that "connection" still roamed freely about this department.

He was glad to have requested that Gil bring her to the lab.

At least he could know firsthand that she was alright.

The sound of crutches clattering on the tile floor was getting louder, and as expected Brass looked up to spy Nick heading towards him with a full head of steam.

Glancing around nervously, Nick was shaking his head – his features contorted in anger.

"What the _hell_, Brass? The bastard dies right under your nose?"

The detective could see the unspoken syllogism in the younger CSI's eyes: _So how are we supposed to ensure that _Sara_ is safe?_

Raising his hands to prevent Nick from continuing, Jim spoke, "Gil is on his way here with Sara."

Nick blanched.

"Does she know?"

Shaking his head, Jim gulped strongly to keep his emotions intact.

Nick protested, "Well, when she gets here, _you_ have to do something, we have to do _something_, to make sure she knows she's safe…here…with us…"

Panic was settling in the younger man's features, and once again Brass was reminded of the guilt Nick still carried that he was unable to help Sara at the original arson scene.

The detective moved to comfort his young friend, but was distracted by the file Nick carried awkwardly in his hand.

"Nick?" he spoke and both men's attentions turned to the original reason for his seeking out Brass.

"Oh, yeah…hey, look at this," the CSI began as he moved to read over Brass' shoulder.

"This is the CODIS hit on Old Jim," he said almost excitedly.

Brass scanned the document.

"Spent some time in juvy, petty theft…oooh…" he indicated a line as Nick nodded knowingly.

"Sent away until he was 18 for torching the local animal shelter. Says here he escaped a year before his time was up – "

Peering closer, Nick read with interest, "And they never found him?"

Brass chortled in a not amused fashion.

"Facility is overrun, underfunded – not much manpower to search for someone smart enough to get out of their lockup."

Continuing on, Brass' eyebrows raised as he read, "Age 22: Arrested with a partner – Jeremy Lang. Rape and Indecent Exposure on a Southern California private high school campus."

Nick took over relating the information.

"Both men were remanded to a psychiatric facility and imprisoned for," he craned to reread the stats in disbelief, "FOUR YEARS?"

Brass snarled, "State budget cuts, forced review of cases that could be deemed 'reformed'."

"Yeah," steamed Nick, "give them a prescription and a pat on the back with a warning not to do it again."

Both men shook their head and inhaled heavily as they had seen this scenario many times in their careers – and it usually ended badly.

Reading on, Brass pointed out that Old Jim and his partner in crime had been sought in connection with several arson cases in the greater Malibu area, but had eluded police until three years ago.

"Says here, they were once again remanded to a psychiatric facility – this time without possibility of release."

"So…how did they get out?" Nick asked heatedly as Brass turned a few pages in the file – only to feel a younger hand grasp his arm to stop the paper shuffling.

Nick was now staring at the photo of Jeremy Lang, reacting as a chill spreading up his spine.

Noticed by Brass, his hand attempted to nudge the folder closed, "What is it, Nick?"

His lips were dry as he answered while his hand reached out tenuously to reopen the folder and point at the photo.

"He-"

There was a pause as Nick fought to maintain his composure.

"_He_ was _there!_ _He_ was the one who damaged my leg…grabbed Sara and-" his voice suddenly choked.

As Nick paused to turn his head away, Brass immediately twisted so that his back was to the emotional young man, sweeping the folder closer to gain more information on this latest development.

As fate would have it, at that moment Gil and Sara arrived at the scene.

Seeing as Nick and Brass were having a discussion, they approached silently until they were directly behind the duo.

"Hey, Nick," Grissom began seeing Brass turning away to effectively end their conversation.

Gil's eyebrows crunched in concern as he immediately saw how upset the younger man was.

He reached out to steady Nick's arm on his crutch just as Sara reached Jim who was standing with the folder fully opened in his outstretched palms.

Her smile in greeting fell faster than her heart rate as her eyes dropped from Jim's concerned scowl to the object of his attention.

There before her lay the mug shots of both Old Jim and his accomplice Jeremy Lang.

The eyes of both men seems to sear through Sara's soul, and her surprise at seeing the faces of both men responsible for violating her in such a terrifying fashion was too much.

The last recognizable memory Sara had was of her blood turning to ice, of stars dancing wildly before her eyes as her limbs refused to hold her, and of Gil's frantic tone as he moved towards her.

Grissom was quick, but his possessive grip was no match for the comforting darkness that enveloped her in its icy arms as it claimed her as its own.


	32. Chapter 32

A/N: This story is plaguing my waking hours as this chapter moves us towards the discovery of the mastermind behind Sara's nightmare…work continues to unfairly take me away from my personal computer and I am desperate to write out what is playing out in my head…I'm hoping that this very busy week will see another update before the holiday…the next chapter unveils the truth…but there is a big cliffhanger here to deal with first…hope you will continue to be so terrific with your reader support and reviews…only a few more chapters left, I believe…no time to reread, so all mistakes are mine...you are all so great…more soon as possible… -Kathy

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Hushed.

The sounds around her were swirling softly through her consciousness, raising her awareness from the sudden darkness that had overwhelmed her.

Though it had shut out her surroundings as if a light switch had been clicked, overall she had been feeling peaceful…safe.

Now, something inside her stirred with panic, yet she was unable to string together a reason even though her mind flashed distorted images before her closed eyes.

The voices were distant, yet close enough to allow her to realize she was not alone.

Someone was nearby.

Images continued their assault, raising her heart rate and pulling her back from the brink of oblivion.

Terror.

Her breath hitched as the mug shots of Old Jim and Jeremy Lang leered ominously closer, intimidating as if there stood right over her.

Sara's internal radar was on high alert, and suddenly she detected movement - silent, but present nonetheless.

Her fear yanked her into the midst of her present reality with such a jolt that she found herself sitting bolt upright before her eyelids slammed fully open.

Upon her first sweep of the room, her breath hitched when she felt a strong male hand press her shoulder backward easily in an attempt to keep her at rest upon the gurney.

She resisted, of course, for the first eight seconds until a familiar voice spoke quietly, "Sara."

Her limbs halted their motions and her head twisted towards the sound.

Gentle but concerned eyes held hers as Doc gave her a few moments to process her environment before speaking again.

"Sara. You still need to lie down for a bit. You've had quite a shock."

She was still staring intently at the coroner, watching his lips move as if in some macabre dance, unable to fully understand his desired message.

He tried again, "Sara…for me…just please lie back for just a bit more."

Her eyes seemed to recognize him, and she would probably not be able to articulate just why she trusted his words at this particular moment.

Yet, she did resume her reclining position.

"You had us a bit worried, young lady. I wasn't quite sure what to tell Gil-"

"Griss!" Sara interrupted worriedly, her feet swinging sideways unsuccessfully as if she planned to leave.

"Hey, now…relax…" Doc spoke with some authority, his practiced eye taking in her obvious concern yet looking to see something beyond that.

He smiled reassuringly at her.

"Grissom's fine, Sara…_frantic_ about you….ready to _kill_ whoever showed you that file…"

Doc's voice trailed off as he cursed himself the second time in five minutes for bringing up that memory.

Sara opened her mouth to speak, but found herself stymied by her burgeoning headache.

"I'm ..fine…" she began, only to be the one interrupted this time.

"Then, _don't_ be!" sighed an exasperated Robbins, moving to stand over her to gain her complete attention.

"_Let_ him worry, Sara. Let him be filled – hell, _overwhelmed_, in concern. _Let_ him do that, Sara."

Taking a breath, the doctor took her hand.

"Let him in, Sara. All the way. You deserve to have someone to care for you, Sara…and so much more."

He sent her a fatherly smile.

"Take it from me…that's what a man in love will do anyway – with or without your say-so."

Sara moved to speak, but as the adrenaline rush began to ebb it was replaced with a feeling of lightheadedness and the beginnings of a migraine.

Leaning back further from the doctor's proximity, Sara's eyes closed with a slight grimace.

"Headache getting bad?" Al asked softly.

Begrudgingly, Sara nodded.

The doctor patted her hand before rising.

"Close your eyes, Sara…I'm just going to dash out a sec and bring you something mild to help with that pain."

Although she knew he would only go a few steps away, Sara found herself groping with the limited motion of her right hand to stay his departure.

Her eyes closed, her hand caught the air – the soft click of Doc's office door indicating he had departed in search of some medication.

Sleep was dragging her under for a second time that day, her last conscious thoughts centering around the reverse click on the doorknob as someone entered with soft footfalls…

--------------

Nick pounded up the hallway in a furious motion – one that matched his rising temper.

First he's remanded to the evidence locker with the case file while Grissom and Brass race towards the morgue with Sara's unconscious form – the imagery too haunting for Nick to focus on.

Next he locks away the file only to have Brass phone him to "find Archie" - presumably to conduct a document record search - only to find that the search had been completed and that Terri had taken it to Ecklie earlier in the day.

He had stormed out of the AV lab with such force that "gale warnings" would surely by set up in the breakroom before long.

Now he was nearing Brass' office noting that, while the door appeared to be shut, the knob had not securely latched in place.

Nick was about to push forcefully to enter, but was stopped at the sound of Brass' voice obviously speaking in urgent tones.

"-a-n-g…that's right…Jeremy…yeah…about the same time…"

Interpreting the ensuing silence as the caller's response, Nick was surprised at the sudden warmth in the detective's tone.

"Listen…yeah, I do trust you….but don't go putting yourself in harm's way…"

Another moment before Brass spoke again.

"Just keep a low profile…James Billingham, he's the D.A. down there…I did some work with him way back…no, don't discuss any of this over the phone…"

Nick stepped back as he saw Brass' shadow nearing his frosted windowed door.

"Right…in person…I won't sleep until I play out this hunch…we just have to be careful…"

A sudden sharp intake of breath and Brass' tone immediately chilled.

"I don't give a rat's ass about _her_ career…you didn't see the effect that file had on her – she just…just…"

Confused, Nick tried to make sense of the turn in the conversation especially as it related to Sara.

Brass sighed into the headset.

"Yeah…sorry…yeah, I know…I _do_…you're right, and I'm sorry…it's just this situation…god help me, if anything happens to her, Cath…"

Nick's eyebrows raised high on his forehead.

_What the hell is going on around here?_

It occurred to him that he hadn't heard from Catherine since she had returned for a few days from her family outing only to be sent "on consult" for the department.

She had stopped by his place to see for herself that he was mending properly.

They had shared a beer on his covered deck before she left for the airport.

_She left…now she's finding out about that scumbag who hurt Sara?...why isn't Brass going through channels?...what's with all the secrecy?_

As if to answer his concern, Nick leaned in closer to hear Brass' voice quiet as he spoke.

"Remember, send the report to my private fax…but only after you've made sure I'm in my office."

A few more closing comments and the sound of a cell cover clicking told Nick the call ended.

Just as Nick's hand moved to push the door open, the sound of an agitated Grissom pulsed up the empty corridor.

Grissom was furious.

Not only had he felt powerless as he witnessed Sara's complete meltdown, but now he was effectively blocked from remaining in the morgue after he went off on the lab techs for making too much noise in the hallway as Sara's gurney was wheeled into Doc's office.

Al Robbins could testify that he had never seen the usually even-tempered Grissom quite so unnerved.

He realized that Gil needed some down time to regroup before his blood pressure rose to stroke-proportions.

He also realized that Grissom was getting too involved in Sara's situation to objectively sort through the new evidence.

Still, his priority at this point was the still-unconscious young woman who had endured so much these last few months.

The coroner would confess to a certain satisfaction that the remaining suspect in her initial horror was now laying on a slab in the coolers.

Yet, he intended to conduct himself without reproach, crossing ever T and dotting every I so that in some way Sara could find closure to this nightmare and perhaps move on with her life.

But Al's decision left Grissom suspended in a cloud of anger that threatened to overtake his sanity, his exile from Doc's office having the exact opposite effect than was desired.

Almost dogged in his determination to hunt down the source of the offending file, Grissom was making a beeline for Brass' office.

It made his day to see Nick perched on his crutches just outside the closed door of his destination.

He was planning to give the younger CSI a good piece of his crazed mind, making sure he regretted the day he pulled that file and placed Sara in such emotional upheaval.

What Gil _wasn't_ prepared for was Nick's scowl as he turned towards the approaching form of his supervisor.

"What the _hell_, Grissom?" the younger man seethed, "oh, wait…I get it…"

Nick's words stopped Gil in his tracks. _He gets _what _exactly?_

Before he could speak, however, Nick's indictment continued.

"You got scared, right? You do this all the time to her, you know?

Just as she thinks she can rely on you, believe all your flowery promises, _you _bolt when the going gets tough, right?"

Nick's voice reverberated through the hallways as Grissom was now scowling as he moved closer to the source of his anger.

"What – you just left her? Alone? Man, you take the cake, you know that Grissom?"

The two men began to verbally spar with each other, Nick claiming that Gil was abandoning Sara when she needed his support, and Grissom yelling that if it hadn't been for _that file_ Sara wouldn't be in this situation to begin with.

The noise brought Brass running into the hallway, yanking both men by the collar and shoving them into his office before slamming the door.

He reluctantly released his hold on Nick after supporting his weight enough to sit him in the upholstered chair while his glare silenced Grissom whose clenched fists told of his continued ire.

"This shit is helping _no one_, particularly Sara," Brass bellowed, but he knew his words would have little effect seeing the heat raging from the two bulls now corralled within these four walls.

"Gil – the file was important…links Old Jim to the arson…" he continued as if nothing had occurred.

"Sara was not supposed to see it. I regret that," Jim continued.

Before Grissom could reply, Brass raised his hand to silence him.

"How is she?" he continued, eyes locked with Gil's in an effort to help him refocus on the reason they were all on edge.

"How should _he_ know?" spat Nick, but was cut off by Brass' movements to stand before him.

"Because _she_ means to the world to _him_…to _us_…" Jim spoke, indicating all three men with his last statement.

Nick lowered his eyes at the words.

He knew in his heart those words were true.

Yet his guilt for not protecting Sara at the initial scene played heavily on his mind.

A long pause was interrupted by Grissom's deep breath before speaking.

"Nick…Al wanted to examine Sara alone. He asked me to leave them for a while. I was just coming to find out more about this file, and then I _promise _you I am right back there."

Nick sighed and shook his head.

_Was nothing ever going to be the same with the team again? Even in death, Old Jim and his bastard partner were inflicting their particular brand of hell._

"Where is Sofia right about now?" Brass asked, seemingly from out of the blue.

"Why do you ask?" queried Gil suspiciously, while Nick noted the way Brass held his jaw before answering.

"Let's just say, I'm keeping an open eye and an open mind about several things right now," was all the other two would get in reply.

Gil immediately jumped to conclusions.

"You know something," he insisted. "Is Sofia involved in all of this somehow? Did you uncover some connection to the arsons?"

Grissom stopped speaking abruptly, his eyes misted over as his mind's computer tabulated all the references to Sofia from the earlier cases.

His jaw hardened as he began extrapolating evidence that would support a case of involvement by the blonde CSI.

Without further word, he moved towards the closed door, only to be blocked in his path by a calm speaking Brass.

"Whoa, cowboy…when I know something, you'll know something."

"Get out of my way, Jim," hissed Gil, intent on getting some answers from the flirtatious blonde.

"No can do, partner," Brass said evenly, his hand now resting on Gil's shoulder.

"Listen, Gil, do us both a favor. Let me handle any internal investigation here, okay?"

Grissom's glare told him that suggestion was anything _but_ okay.

"I promise not to exclude you from any evidence or theory that turns up. I don't want to force our hand here. If there is even circumstantial evidence against Sofia, I _promise_ you I will keep you in the loop. Gil?" Brass finished, inhaling slowly to give time for Grissom to respond.

A long moment, and Nick was beginning to worry as his eyes connected with Brass'.

Finally, Gil spoke softly.

"You handle your investigation, Jim. I promise to stay low for now. But keep it under wraps. We don't know who else may be working with her here in the lab."

Gil moved a step forward until he was face to face with his old friend.

Yet Brass was sure he did not know the man who now stood before him.

"I promise you one more thing. If Sofia _is_ involved with hurting Sara, on _any_ level…"

Grissom sloughed off Jim's hand gruffly before reaching for the door handle.

"…she'll wind up dead in her cell like the other _scum_ who made our life a living hell."

His tone caused the other two men to shudder, but before they could respond Gil had flung open the door and stepped out into the hallway.

Gil stalked down the hallway with a worried Brass in tow who now was mentally kicking himself for unveiling his unproven suspicions about Sofia before he had substantial evidence to convict her.

Before he could call Grissom's name, they found themselves turning the corner to the morgue – Grissom's steps coming to a grinding halt as he spotted Doc Robbins locking the door to the lab's pharmacy.

"What the _hell _is going on?" Gil spoke as he brushed past Al almost sprinting towards the office where Sara lay.

"You left her _alone_? Are you _mad_ - or just seriously _incompetent_?" Grissom bellowed, his anger all but pulsating from his erratic movements.

Brass caught up with Gil and spun him around, effectively stopping his movements towards the door.

Gil swore, but Jim's hold was unmoving.

Doc glanced worriedly, wondering if something of which he was unaware had happened in the interim that Sara was in his care.

Jim shot a glare at the doctor, his own anger boiling at the negligence of this physician who would leave their Sara alone after all she had been through.

Seeing as they were waiting for an explanation, Doc started speaking but suddenly felt uncomfortable not being at his patient's side.

The trio moved down the L-shaped path to his office, a sense of dread descending over them.

The doctor's words rushed out: "I just left her for a short time, had to search for the sedative I needed – damn day shift has the new shipment totally misfiled."

He was glad to see the hallway outside his private entrance was empty, his reasons for being detained now sounding inadequate even to his own ears.

Grissom was the first to reach the door, and finding it locked he inhaled deeply with relief that at least Sara had been secured in the office.

A heartbeat found both Brass and Gil turning expectantly towards the narrow-eyed physician.

"I didn't lock that before I left."

Brass stood back placing his hand in his pocket in search of a skeleton key that he carried which opened most of the older doors in the lab.

Grissom's instinct reacted in swifter form, his tense body slamming into the door twice before it gave way under the pressure of his adrenaline-surged form.

"Sara!"

Brass and Grissom's duet resounded throughout the empty room.

Robbins cursed as Brass barked orders into his 2-way.

The coroner dropped the vial onto the empty gurney, his eyes taking inventory of his exam room.

His jaw dropped, and he spun around to face an immobile Grissom.

For all the years he had known this geeky scientist, this was the first time he personally understood the plight of a cornered insect under this man's intense glare.

Al pushed past his discomfort and focused on the message.

"Gil…my wheelchair's missing."

Without another word, the splintered wood of the broken door grazed his arm as Grissom stormed out towards the hallway.

Brass had finished deploying units to search the building and get the APB underway.

Seeing Gil move like a man possessed, Jim called Nick and asked him to head off Grissom as he headed for the lab.

Turning to glare at the worried figure of the doctor, Brass left without a word.

He'd take care of _that_ situation later.

Right now his feet moved swiftly back down the corridor leading to the break room.

It didn't take much imagination to figure out who was the target of Gil's rage at this point.

Jim just hoped he could intercept his friend before there was more blood shed here today.


	33. Chapter 33

A/N: The revelation is at hand – hope this chapter pleases…more within the next week…all mistakes are mine…thanks for the continued reader support and those terrific reviews, they mean so much… -Kathy

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The sounds of footsteps pounded down the corridor were overshadowed by the usual hustle and bustle of lab techs at work.

But the sounds were masked by the feeling of overwhelming anger that surged through his veins.

Gil Grissom was a man on a mission.

His Sara had been taken from him, and he was going to find the person responsible.

_And when I do-_

He was startled out of his thoughts by the feeling of a strong hand gripping his arm.

Whirling around, he was pushing Nick away without thought for the man's tenuous hold on his crutches.

Even the sound of the medical aids crashing to the floor did not prevent Gil from resuming his forward motion.

Nick grabbed his crutches from the floor, seething as he barked in a low tone, "Grissom!"

However, the lab techs continued to work oblivious to the eruption that was in the making as Gil Grissom was seriously close to committing a crime of passion.

His hand pressed into the doorway of the breakroom without thought to the bang of the door as it hit the back wall.

His fist clenched as he pounded the work table, anger blinding him at the fact that the room had no occupants.

Grissom's eyes snapped to the call out board, his teeth clenched as he read that Sofia was listed as "out" but without annotation.

His nostrils flared as irate breaths now came deeper, fueling the thoughts of revenge that swarmed his conscience.

For a better part of his life, Gil Grissom had suppressed this part of makeup.

Oh, it flared to the surface briefly from time to time.

Like on the day Philip Gerard interrogated Sara and he discovered she was dating that paramedic.

Or the day that Nick was kidnapped.

But for the most part, Grissom had been able to segment this anger and keep it locked away within the recesses of his soul.

He had only let it surface once before in his memory, and that experience had shaken him so deeply that he had made good his resolve to keep his anger from ever resurfacing in such a manner.

Now, however, with the prospect of having lost the only woman he would ever love, Gil allowed the beast to surface.

His jaw clenched as he moved to his office, his hand absently fingering his cell phone as he dialed Sofia's exchange without thought.

Meanwhile, Nick was trying to keep up with Brass who was moving at such a rate that his suit coat was flapping open in the breeze of his momentum.

Brass, too, stopped in the doorway of the empty break room and his eyes also followed the same path to the callout board.

His gaze, however, landed on a totally different piece of information.

_Terri Miller is clocked out for this shift? _

Hairs on the back of his neck began to stand straight up.

_Wait – before I started to follow Grissom - didn't Nick try to discuss Terri Miller with him?_

Reeling around to face a startled Nick, Jim all but seized him by the shirt collar.

"Didn't you tell me something about Terri Miller before I left my office?"

Not sure exactly what was happening, Nick shoved aside his questions to answer carefully.

"Yeah…you sent me for that evidence report, but Terri had already retrieved it – and taken it to Ecklie herself…we never even got to see it! What's with _that_?" the younger man answered with increased irritability.

_What's with that, indeed,_ Brass thought as his frown turned to a scowl.

His gut burned with worry as pieces were falling together rapidly – creating a picture Brass was sure he didn't want to deal with.

Knowing time was of the essence, Brass' footsteps snapped smartly on the well-polished tiles as he huffed towards the office of Conrad Ecklie.

Had he not been so focused on getting the answers to cement his theory, he would have remembered that Gil was also following his trail of evidence…

--------------

Sara had the sensation of flying.

Her body sagged beneath her confused mind, now reeling with an almost sickening feeling pervading her senses.

Her eyes persistently refused to open, but extraneous sounds were vacillating between muted and blaring.

She could feel stabbing pain along her cheekbones, and could almost detect a trickle of blood oozing down towards her neck.

Something was definitely wrong.

Sara was aware of another presence in the room.

She prayed it was Grissom.

She needed desperately to hear his soft tenor, soothing her fears, letting her know she was safe.

Her heart was racing as she tried to defy the strength of the sickeningly sweet smell that seemed to become more powerful in these last seconds.

She could identify the coarse gruffness of the cloth pressing firmly over her face.

The fumes propelled her downward, a spinning vortex pulling her into oblivion, her last thoughts in prayer that Gil would come soon and help her out of this hell…

-------------

Grissom stood in front of his desk, his eyes clenched as anger overwhelmed his being.

Opening them on a deep inhale, he suddenly succumbed to the rage inside him.

In one jerking motion, the multiple stacks of orderly paperwork went flying off the desk – cascading downward as a sickening tickertape parade of what Grissom used to consider important in his life.

For years, he had forbidden Sara to get closer in an effort to preserve his standing as graveyard shift supervisor.

Slumping into his chair, his head flew to his hands in the despair that comes when a person realizes there is no going back.

_And without my Sara, there is no going forward._

Images haunted him of Sara injured, lying in a hospital bed, waking terrified from the nightmares that plagued her.

He couldn't shake the fact that he felt her calling for him even now.

He had promised to protect her.

He had failed her again.

Despair turned again to fury as Grissom jumped up and moved hastily towards the bookshelf that contained the lockbox.

Practically pulling the lock off barehanded, he flipped open the top – and pulled out his service revolver.

With practiced hands, he checked the barrel and turned on the safety before stuffing it and an extra ammo cartridge into the interior pocket of his jacket.

Spinning around as he yanked on the piece of outerwear, his steps were suddenly halted as he heard the familiar strains of flirtatious giggling.

_Sofia._

Within two steps Gil found himself bursting out into the hallway as Sofia and Warrick strode towards him, their arms full of evidence bags.

"Where have you been?" Grissom barked angrily, taking even the usually unflappable Warrick by surprise.

Looking a bit unsurely at Sofia, the young CSI answered, "The DB out in Parkland Valley turned out to be a possible murder/suicide. I called for backup, and Sofia was available so…Gris, was this a problem?"

He worried that he had somehow violated a "Grissom code", although calling the lab for backup when the supervisor had been unavailable was actually a standard procedure these days.

But what concerned him more was the unreadable expression on Grissom's face as he stared unblinking towards Sofia.

With his jaw still set, Gil spoke as if he had not heard Warrick's disclaimer of Sofia's absence.

"Where _were _you?"

Thinking Grissom had been worried about her, Sofia sidled up to him confidently.

"I marked the board, Grissom. I was "out"…with Warrick."

She smiled as she stood directly in front of the object of her affections.

"I was taking care of something here at the lab when I received Warrick's call. Sorry, if you were so – _concerned_."

Placing her hand on Gil's taut forearm, she cooed almost seductively, "Next time, I'll be sure to let you know before I leave the lab."

Sofia's heart slammed into her chest as Gil yanked his arm from beneath her grasp.

"So you _had been_ down in the morgue?"

Flustered, Sofia's brows knit together.

"_Morgue_? Why, no," she responded a bit hesitantly, wondering where he was going with this line of questioning.

"You were there, _alone_, after Doc left," Gil insisted, moving towards her menacingly.

"What? No…Grissom?" Sofia almost stuttered, her feet feeling numb as they refused to move her from his approaching form.

"You just couldn't take no for an answer, could you? You just couldn't leave her alone!"

Gil was yelling now, and Warrick found himself dropping the evidence bags and placing himself between Grissom and the object of his anger.

"Grissom-" the CSI began, but found himself being shoved harshly out of the way.

Instinct caused him to regain his footing and again to place himself between the two.

"Grissom!" Warrick said more firmly, placing his hands up defensively, "_what_ is going on? What's happened?"

"Sara!" Gil barked out, his frustration building at finding Sofia and not getting the location where Sara was being held.

"Sara? What – oh, god…Grissom…no…" Warrick ended on a sigh, his shoulders slumping as his heart beat wildly in his chest.

Another pause.

"Gris – what happened?" Warrick almost whispering now, afraid to offset the tenuous balance his boss was maintaining on his temper.

Without taking his eyes off Sofia, Gil rattled on the little he knew of the timeline leading to Sara's disappearance.

"And _you_-" Grissom spat towards Sofia with a tone she had never heard him use, "you _saw_ that file."

Although Sofia was silently shaking her head in disagreement, Gil persisted, "You _knew_ she'd see it. You _knew_ she'd react - _just_ as she did. You _knew_! Because you planned it _all_, didn't you?"

Warrick stood stunned.

Listening to the implausible, Grissom's sure manner had 'Ric almost believing that the jumbled pieces of information could possibly come together to make that scenario possible.

Warrick's years of CSI training kicked in.

_Sofia did have opportunity as she had been first responder to each of the scenes in which Sara was injured._

_She definitely viewed Sara as a threat to getting what everyone knew she wanted – Gil Grissom._

_And there was a time today that she had been unassigned and in the lab alone…_

Looking at the fear in Sofia's eyes now, however, Warrick was coming to believe that Grissom was barking up the wrong tree.

"Tell me where Sara is!" Grissom spoke so low that the words fairly oozed intimidation.

Although he merely stood so close to Sofia that she found herself pinned against the white tiled wall, the inferred "or else" echoed loud and clear within his command.

Warrick stood by monitoring the situation, anxious to see if the tactic would glean more information that might help them find Sara.

However before she could speak, the hallway reverberated with a new sound.

The echo of rushing feet as Ecklie and Brass called out to Grissom was accompanied by the harried clicks of Nick's crutches.

"Grissom! Stand down!" ordered Brass, his military training instinctively commanding the scene without thought.

Angry eyes turned towards the approaching trio, but Grissom refused to budge.

"Gil…stop…_please_," Jim continued to plead with his friend, taking in the scene and thanking the heavens they had reached their harried coworker in time.

By now, the detective had reached his friend.

Years of defusing hostage situations put Jim's mind into overdrive.

He stood very close to Grissom now, but kept his hands in his pockets.

He kept his gaze casual but focused, and found Gil unable to break his gaze.

"Sofia had nothing to do with this, Gil," the detective said confidently.

Sensing Grissom about to retaliate, Brass continued with a hand now raised defensively before him.

"Gil. It _wasn't _Sofia."

Brass' hand now rested tenuously on Gil's shoulder.

"Gil. Let's not waste time barking up the wrong tree, here."

The words were beginning to sink in, and Brass felt a slight easing in Gil's shoulders.

Gil's head whipped around to pin Sofia with a gaze that all but shouted, "We aren't done here," and the glare worked as the woman stayed as still as the night when Grissom backed up two paces.

Letting out a longer breath, Brass turned towards Nick and Ecklie.

"Gil, you have to hear this."

Almost without comprehending, Nick went into a short explanation of Terri taking the evidence incriminating the person who had administered a lethal dose of drugs to Old Jim.

Ecklie had no knowledge she had even collected the file until Brass had just made him aware of it.

Brass' phone chirped, but he ignored it as he waited for Grissom's reaction.

He didn't have to wait long.

He pinned Ecklie with stare that caused the lab director to grimace.

"So, Terri was reporting to you? Just what assignment did you actually give to her, _Con_rad?"

It was no secret that there was bad blood between these two men, and the implication that Ecklie was involved was clear to all those huddled in this circle.

Ecklie fumed.

"Listen, Grissom-" but found himself unable to utter another word as Gil had grabbed him by the throat and pinned him against the opposite wall.

"You _always_ had it in for Sara. No matter what, she was _never_ good enough for you! What did you do, Conrad? WHAT DID YOU DO?"

Within seconds, Brass pulled Grissom off a sputtering Ecklie.

That was when he felt his revolver.

Spinning him around gruffly, Brass pressed his hand onto the gun until it pressed painfully against Gil's side.

"What? You think _this_ is going to solve _anything_?"

Gil was not to be deterred.

He made a move towards Ecklie, but halted as Jim stood in place, ignoring the second set of rings on his cell phone.

It was obvious Grissom was losing control.

"Let's all take a deep breath here, okay, pal?" Brass asked although the command was evident to all.

Turning to Ecklie, he asked again, "Do we know where Miller is now?"

To this, Conrad shook his head as he glared at Grissom while rubbing his sore throat.

"No…she came to my office near the beginning of the shift – _you _were there, Sofia," he looked over to the blonde for confirmation.

"We were heading towards the break room when we saw that you were interrogating the suspect. After reaching the room for assignments, Terri suddenly said she was not feeling well and asked to go home."

Brass could see Grissom's jaw twitch, wondering if he was coming up with the same timeline coincidences.

Jim's phone beeped for an incoming text message as Ecklie continued.

"I didn't see the need to keep her here with everything else we were dealing with at the time," came the clear, unemotional response.

Brass was about to turn away when Conrad added, "She told me she was going to stop by the lab's pharmacy for something that would make her feel better before she would be heading out."

Briefly glaring defiantly at Grissom, "And _that_ was the last time I saw or heard from Terri Miller."

When the cell phone beeped again, Brass grasped it heatedly and without glancing at the caller ID, barked, "_What?_"

The four persons stared at Brass as his face went white and he blew out, "Oh, shit…"

He listened intently for a moment, refusing to meet with their imploring glances.

With directions to send the info immediately to his office, Brass slammed closed his cell phone and looked nervously at Grissom.

"Gil-" he said, inhaling deeply before continuing.

Grissom's heart stopped.

"No…not Sara…Jim…," Gil could barely speak.

His knees wobbled slightly, but his gaze held his friend's as he hoped it was not the call he dreaded receiving since she was first taken from him.

"No word yet on Sara," Brass started reassuringly, "but perhaps we better go to my office for this."

"Tell me. NOW!" commanded Grissom, knowing he could not make it down the corridor in his current state.

"Look. The long and the short of it is, I sent Catherine Willows to do some undercover work for me."

Ecklie grimaced and began, "Using department resources for your little games is against department pol-"

Now it was Brass' turn to see red.

"This was no game, Conrad. When one of our CSI's life is threatened, this department owes them the use of _any and all resources_. And if you don't _like_ that," Jim moved into Ecklie's personal space, "then just _try _and bring me up on charges!"

"Jim," Grissom pleaded, needing him to continue.

Turning back to his friend: "Grissom – it's not good."

At Gil's narrowed eyes, Brass continued, "Apparently Old Jim and Jeremy Lang were sent to that hospital for criminally insane, as we knew. What we weren't aware of was that while they were there, they met up with a female inmate and the three formed an uneasy alliance."

Knowing he had their attention, Jim continued, "The female insisted she had been set up by the courts and was imprisoned falsely. She was heavily medicated, yet never stopped insisting a family member was in on the conspiracy."

Looking around the corridor to be sure they were alone, he continued, "Grissom – the woman inmate was Terri Miller's sister."

Nick and Warrick gasped, but Gil stood unmoving.

Brass continued, "Catherine is sending me the complete file that was maintained by the assistant DA who was reviewing the case until it was closed. I'll know more when I get the copy."

Ecklie found his voice, "Why was the case closed?"

Brass looked at Conrad before turning back to Grissom.

"There was a prison break last year. The female died under suspicious circs during the escape attempt. The two male prisoners were never found. General wisdom was that there was someone on the outside who helped them make good their escape."

Nick said, "And the two men who escaped were –"

"Old Jim and Jeremy Lang," whispered Grissom before closing his eyes against the ramifications of this new information.

"Gil, under the circumstances, I think it would be best to assume-"

Grissom's eyes open to reveal the depths of his despair as he interrupted.

"-that Terri Miller has kidnapped my Sara."


	34. Chapter 34

A/N: Unexpected travel kept me away from writing this chapter…and as these two often do, this was not the chapter I had started to write…hope it pleases…leaves us with a mini-cliffhanger…but more is on the way, and that's a promise…all mistakes are mine…thanks and thanks again for the terrific reader response and reviews…you are all just so terrific…more soon as possible…-Kathy

* * *

She stood triumphantly over the object of her deep-seated hatred.

As a demented hunter gloating over her prey, Terri Miller sneered smugly as her manicured nail continued to swipe mercilessly over the side of Sara's face.

Almost as if to brand her, the nail deeply penetrated some areas of skin which now would required additional repair from these injuries.

Absently, Terri sighed and suddenly a boisterous laugh broke through the silence of the townhouse.

She turned as she continued to smile, almost giddy that she was going to have the last laugh in this situation.

Terri moved towards the dresser drawers, opening them randomly until she paused to run her hands over Gil's sweat pants and t-shirts.

The movement found her desire for him stirred wickedly, causing her to slam that drawer closed and to force open his underwear drawer.

A passerby would stop in shock to find her lifting his briefs to her face as if to search for a trace of him still on the fabric.

Her mind flashed images of him approaching her wearing this fitted piece of cotton, begging her with his eyes to remove this last barrier preventing them from truly being together.

_He wants me. He's always wanted _me_._

Her reverie ceased as abruptly as it began, an angry scowl flitting across her features as she spun around to face the unconscious form lying helplessly before her.

The smile that graced her lips belied the cold stare from her accusing eyes as she spoke.

_Yes, Sara - ME!_

Terri moved menacingly towards Sara, her delusion deepening as the minutes ticked on.

_But _you_!_

_You were always trying to distract him._

_He stopped looking at me in that special way whenever you barged into our conversations._

_You made him confused, he forgot what he really wanted._

Terri was shaking in anger as if she were in the midst of a heated argument.

_That one night we met at the airport – oh, you didn't see! You weren't there!_

_He asked me to take a later plane._

_He asked me to join him for a drink, possibly dinner._

_He was shy about it, but he was being oh so brave._

_I thought he was just adorable, you know… but I could see he really wanted this – me – so badly._

_That night he was totally focused on keeping me with him_

_He wouldn't take no for an answer._

_He _loved_ me, Sara! ME!_

_I knew that if we just had a little time together, he would take me away from here that very night._

_We'd run away from everyone and everything. _

_No one would ever find us…and we'd live happily ever after, just loving each other and never letting go._

_He was putty in my hands, Sara_

_And god, did I love him...have loved him since that first night years ago when he had to take a "raincheck" on our first dinner date because he was being sent to San Francisco to fill in for a colleague who promised to be a guest lecturer at a college there._

Terri moved closer to the bed and harshly shoved Sara's body away from her to the opposite edge of Grissom's king-sized bed.

Terri was moving farther away from reality as she plumped up one of Gil's pillows and sensuously crawled onto Grissom's bed.

Having settled her head onto the pillow, she sighed upon inhaling the scent of Grissom still embedded on the pillow sham.

Her smile was soft as she played with the hem of her tank top, her voice soft as she continued to speak to the drugged woman she felt was her only true competition for Grissom's attentions.

_He was going to ask me to marry him that night before our first date, before he left for that lecture, did you know that, Sara?_

_He was going to ask me to run away with him that night and come with him, but he was too much of gentleman to be _that_ forward._

_He knew I'd be back in Vegas soon…and he knew I would be totally faithful to him while we were apart._

_We would be together again soon, and we had our whole lives ahead of us._

_We were going to be happy, Sara._

A frown made its way to Terri's forehead, but she banished it as if trying to refuse delivery on a painful memory.

After a few moments of silence, she continued to speak aloud, almost unaware of an unconscious Sara just inches away.

_Gil was never going to hurt me the way everyone else has done in my life._

_Even my own family…never really loved me._

_My mother was afraid of me – and she had a right to be, the old bitch!_

_Always telling my father that "something was wrong" with me._

_Oh, she always favored my sister – anything the little princess would want._

_My father knew better than to listen to her, though._

_I always knew that "special way" to make him happy, ever since I was a little girl…_

_Daddy would always smile at me and tell me it was our "little secret"._

_And my stupid mother never knew, too busy keeping the little princess happy._

_And I promised myself after that night that _no one _was going to keep us apart again!_

Terri's hands started to wander lustfully over her own body, but in her eyes she was focused on Gil's ministrations as she pictured him perched over her seductively as he had taken her into his bed.

_I left Vegas the day after Gil flew to that lecture, but I couldn't stay away that long._

_Several months after that, I finally came back to work on that reconstruction case._

_Gil was so happy to see me, Sara!_

_I remember sitting at that table, his eyes devouring me as he sipped his coffee._

_His phone rang, and…he didn't want to answer it…no, I saw it in his eyes….but _you….you wouldn't stop talking!

_You kept hounding him about how much you _needed_ him at some stupid crime scene._

_You kept tempting him, flirting with him how he was the only one who could handle the scene._

_You kept throwing that information about those stupid bugs…you _knew_ he was so dedicated that he wouldn't pass up the opportunity to be the hero again._

_He was never going to put his career ahead of his life – his love - for me, Sara._

_But _you…_you pulled that "damsel in distress" act…and he was just too much of a gentleman to say no to you!_

_I sat there, Sara, and I knew….I knew he was going to end that call and tell me that while he really only ever wanted to be with me, that __Sara__ needed him because she was too stupid and incompetent to handle the case by herself._

_I couldn't stand there and watch his torment any longer._

_While he continued to bark orders at you, Sara, I slipped away and made my way towards the flight gate._

_I'd give him the chance to come after me, Sara…chase me down in the airport and pull me into his arms…_

Terri's voice softened, not in tenderness but in the rage that continued to flame hotter.

_But my plane boarded…and I found myself being lifted from the ground – away from the man who loved me._

_He was going to leave me to go to you, _you wouldn't give him any choice!

You _made him so confused, Sara._

_He really didn't to want to leave me, though…he'd never betray his love for me with a whore like you!_

_He wasn't going to be just like my father!_

Terri stirred discontentedly, her grimace a testament to her rage.

_Daddy always told me I was his special girl._

_But he lied to me._

_He said _I_ was special, but he didn't mean it._

_I saw him that night._

_After I left Gil at the airport, I boarded my flight and came home._

_No one met me at the airport._

_No one cared that I was coming home._

_So I let myself into the house, and went upstairs._

_My parents were the only ones home._

_The lights were out, but their door was ajar._

_That's when I saw them._

_My father…having sex with _that_ woman…she was calling him name…  
_

At this point, Terri's hand started moving to release the sexual tension her confession was building inside her.

_I stood there, angrier than I had ever remembered being._

_He was moving against her…in that way he had always told me was only meant for me._

_He was saying the same words…she was stroking his chest in the same way..._

_He started calling her "baby"…using our words of love… I couldn't take it!_

Twisted memories caused Terri to feel the dichotomy of the love/hate relationship as her walls shattered around her deftly moving fingers.

Several moments passed as her breathing resumed its normal pace.

Softly, she turned towards Sara and smiled at the trickles of dried blood that had oozed from the thin slits.

Terri's fingers feathered her own cheeks, and a smile crossed her face at the contrast of her own milky soft skin against the newly-injured burned areas of Sara's face which now contorted her features into a grotesque mask.

_You might have been marginally pretty once, Sara…but no more._

_I thought you'd just die in that first arson...that had always been the plan..._

_Then I would suddenly be there to comfort all the team...and Gil would lean on me for the comfort I could give him..._

_And he'd remember how much he always wanted to be with me...._

Terri's voice turned hollow.

_But you didn't die, did you? You little bitch!_

_And once again Gil pulled your ass out of danger, just as he has been doing since the damned day you came to Vegas!_

_So I had to torch my own rental and my car...I couldn't let the evidence be reviewed by anyone...most investigators might not have connected the dots, but then Gil trained all of you so well that it wouldn't have taken long for any of you to find that the trail led directly to me..._

_So I called Old Jim and threatened to expose his whereabouts unless he continued to work for me._

_Hell, he'd do anything not to be locked up in that facility again!_

Terri continued glaring at Sara's sleeping form.

_Gil took me in to his home, Sara. _

_I thought you 'd get the idea that day you found us just having cuddled on the couch._

_But you don't learn, do you Sara?_

_You can't get it through your head that Gil will forget about you after you're dead._

_And once again he'll come to me for comfort._

_He might have thought he loved you once._

_But look at you now, Sara!_

A snicker escaped Terri's lips.

_Gil will never want you now…he'll only ever feel pity for you…that's why I had to get you away from him…you keep confusing him…_

Terri smiled as her hands resumed their foreplay, wishing Gil would hurry home and take her forcefully by their fireplace just as she had fantasized these many weeks.

Her confession seemed to continue without conscious thought.

_That night, I turned to the hall table, and I picked up the detailed wooden sculpture my sister had just finished carving, and charged into their room screaming._

_I never saw my mother look quite so frightened, _she added wistfully, recalling how she had knocked them unconscious, each with single blows to the head

_I knocked my father's cigar onto their bedding….didn't take but a few seconds for their bedding to ignite._

_Having worked with CSI's throughout my career, I was careful to leave the wooden statue on the bed._

_I remember smiling as it became engulfed in flame – removing my fingerprints from the scene._

_I walked right out their door and into my sister's room, sitting properly supported on the side of her bed to remove my shoes - and place them under her bed._

_Hoisting myself onto the mattress, I moved across to the bedroom to her closet and slid the door open with my elbow._

_As we wore the same size 8, I chose a pair from the back of the shoe shelf._

_After sliding closed the closet door, I gingerly made my way on tiptoe around the walls until I was outside in the heavily smoke-filled hallway._

_I proceeded down the stairs again on tiptoe until I made my way across the hardwood floor and out the kitchen's sliding door, which I left ajar without leaving evidence of my visit._

Sara stirred slightly as the effects of the chloroform were fading.

Terri propped herself on her elbow to look down on her nemesis.

_The little princess took the fall for that misdeed, I saw to that._

_Didn't hurt that the neighbors were aware of her recent falling out with my father._

_Friends said my mother had been very distraught recently over their rift._

With a hint of something akin to pride, Terri rambled on.

_The prosecution said that this was one of the most heinous crime cases he had ever worked on!_

_My sister was so hysterical at being locked up, that the defense insisted on diminished capacity._

_She avoided the death penalty by being sentenced to that psychiatric facility._

_And wasn't it lucky for me that she was incarcerated there?_

_Even though she didn't want anything to do with my visits, my "doting sister" act put me in good with the staff._

_They were very lenient about leaving me alone in the visitors lounge unsupervised – after all, I worked with law enforcement, right?_

Terri leaned menacingly towards Sara, whispering in her ear and smirking as the sound seemed to create a slight furrow in her prisoner's brow.

_That's where I met them, Sara._

_That's when I knew I found the perfect solution to get rid of you, my dear._

_Once you were out of the picture, Gil would refocus his sights on me._

_We'd have our happy ending._

_We'd live together, loving each other only until the day we died._

Closer now, Terri breathed into Sara's ear.

_Sorry that you won't be here to see it happen, though._

_But this bed isn't big enough for Gil and me to share with _you_, Sara!_

And with one angry motion from her captor, Sara was only slightly aware of falling off the edge of softness and landing harshly to the carpeted floor below.

Terri had spun herself into such a tizzy over the recollections that she decided her patience was expended.

Gripping both edges of one of Gil's overstuffed pillows, she slid herself off the mattress and moved menacingly towards Sara's nose and mouth.

Just then, as fate would have it, the sound of the front door opening stilled Terri's movements mere centimeters above Sara's upturned face.


	35. Chapter 35

This chapter is way too short, but it comes with promises of more on its heels…._you_ are all way too terrific for how patiently you have waited for this update…lots of action here, but more to come….hope you are having the most wonderful holidays…posting on the fly…all mistakes are mine…more soon…-Kathy

---------------

Gil was aware of his feet keeping the frantic pace towards Jim's office.

Yet his mind was screaming with images and snippets of past conversations, forcing him to review each with his practiced analysis.

_He was the one who asked for Terri's help on this case._

_He had been so distracted with worry over Sara's condition, over her safety…_

_How had he missed the clues?_

_He'd seen the way both Sofia and Terri had treated Sara, yet instead of dealing with it, he had just focused on keeping Sara close to him, needing to be with her…_

Gil's lip snarled in self-contempt.

_As usual, too self-absorbed on what _I_ was needing that I missed most of what was brewing around me._

_And now…my selfishness…may just rob me of the one person I need to…to…_

The sound of the group barging through Brass' doorway covered the small sob that Gil had swallowed upon the realization that this time he just may really have lost Sara for good…

------------------

Sofia's hand slipped from the doorknob and moved to click the deadbolt when the sound of someone moving in the bedroom distracted her from that task.

Cursing that her service revolver was locked away at the lab, relief flooded her senses at seeing an agitated Terri pause in the hallway just outside the master bedroom.

Turning away with irritation, Sofia muttered in a dismissive tone, "Oh…it's just you."

Moving towards the kitchen, she pulled a crystal goblet from the cabinet.

Filling it halfway with Scotch, she took a long swig as her eyes tightened against the sting of the liquid.

She sighed as it slid down her throat and moved to warm the hollow feeling that had deposited itself deep within as she recalled the unadulterated anger she had seen in Grissom's eyes.

Sensing Terri's glare, Sofia refused to look in her direction as she took another swill before snapping, "Surprised to see you still hanging around."

The Scotch taking the edge off her tongue, Sofia rubbed the back of her neck as she continued to avoid her roommate's gaze.

"I would have thought you'd have been smart enough not to hang around here, Terri," the blonde continued, chuckling internally at the ridiculous thoughts of this woman actually being involved in the disappearance of their only true competition for Grissom's affections.

Yet, it would be a dream come true - ridding herself of both these women in one fell swoop, leaving her without any competition for their supervisor's attention.

_Having earlier been in the hallway as the men had turned towards Brass' office, Sofia had shaken herself from her internal musings at Gil's reaction to her presence, had forced her thoughts to her immediate surroundings, and finding herself alone in the corridor had decided to leave a bit early as shift was almost over._

_Surely, she had misunderstood the snippet of Brass' last statement._

_She had _not_ just heard them implicate Terri Miller as a suspect in Sara Sidle's disappearance!_

_A soft chortle sprang from her lips as she moved towards the locker room._

_Just as Gil had mistakenly claimed _she_ had figured in that bitch's vanishing, now Terri would be the next likely candidate for interrogation, as in their anxiety they were obviously grasping at straws._

"_Sara's probably just out on a bender, hooked up with some loser in a motel on the strip," Sofia's mind projected, "waiting for her Prince Charming to come and rescue her sorry ass…again…"_

Still, this latest encounter with the longtime object of her affection had made it clear to Sofia that her fantasy of winding up in Grissom's arms may just be the dream that would never come true.

_Well, at least Terri won't have him either, _she thought with smug satisfaction.

Preoccupied with irritating Terri so she would share a bit in her misery, Sofia did not really understand the fatal impact her next statements would have.

"If you think he's going to fall into your arms after what you've done, you're insane."

Keeping her references vague in an effort to maintain the balance of this conversation in her favor, Sofia took another swig to finish her drink before continuing.

Her courage bolstered by the buzz rippling through her mind at chugging her drink, Sofia turned abruptly towards Terri, who had not moved from her stance at the doorway.

Raising her glass towards the bedroom, Sofia laughed softly as her words spilled forth without restraint.

"If you're waiting for Gil to join you in that bed, my dear, you're going to be waiting until hell freezes over."

Moving to refill her glass she continued her insinuations, oblivious to the rising anger in Terri's demeanor.

"Gil and I, well…we shared a moment today…and he made it _very_ clear to me exactly how he felt about a future with me."

She gulped the drink soundly, turning away from Terri so that the woman couldn't see the realization finally dawning on Sofia as to the futility of holding out hope for a relationship with Grissom.

Allowing that misery loved company, Sofia slapped on a smug look and twisted back towards the blonde to taunt, "So quit wasting your time on him, honey…he's only got eyes for _one_ gal – and it ain't _you_, Ms. Miller."

Twisting around to finish her drink with a long gulp, Sofia's eyes stung with an unshed tear.

Speaking more to herself than to the blonde who now was surreptitiously inching closer, Sofia added, "He doesn't want _you_."

She expected Terri to start ranting angrily in response.

She expected Terri to grab onto her arm and twirl her around violently before slapping her soundly for the spiteful words.

She expected Terri to pick up the phone and call Grissom to inform him that Sofia was drunk and acting cruelly towards her.

She didn't expect her final sensations to be that of the impact of the bullet speeding through her chest for a microsecond before her hand released the glass in shock.

The crystal goblet crashed to the floor a second before Sofia's lifeless body crumbled on top of its shattered shards.

-------------

Nick and Brass were conversing with Catherine on speakerphone, but Gil seemed incapable of comprehending what they were saying.

His thoughts were raging with images of Terri hurting Sara, leaving her abandoned in the desert, or worse…

Gil's eyes shut in a vain attempt to stop the memories of finding Sara in that warehouse, and his stomach revolted at the possibility of her having to relive that horror.

He needed to get out of there, needed fresh air to breathe…needed to find Sara.

The door to Brass' office was not fully closed, and a slight turn brought him out of the doorway and into the serenity of the hallway.

Breathing deeply, Gil tried to clear his mind and use abilities to solve the puzzle of Terri's whereabouts.

He was sure that when he found Terri he would find his Sara.

Moving swiftly throughout the hallways, he pushed open the doors with outstretched hands so that his pace never slowed.

Tearing out of the lot, Grissom decided to "follow his gut" and turned towards the townhouse.

On the way, he sighed as he wondered what Sara would say if she knew he was following a hunch, just the thing he had reprimanded her for so many times in the past.

_Sara._

Guilty thoughts again assaulted him of the many wasted days he could have spent loving her, but instead had pushed her away because of his lack of courage.

His jaw set firmly, Gil leaned forward in the seat and turned on the blue/red lights as he increased his speed towards the outskirts of the city where he hoped he'd find some answers.

_I _won't_ let this be the end...I'll _find_ her...I'll hold her...and then I'll never let her go again..._

His mind intent on arriving swiftly yet safely, Grissom did not detect the officers parked on a side road near one of the casinos.

Watching the Denali's lights speed by them, the officers looked at each other for a moment in puzzlement.

Their eyes simultaneously glanced down towards their silent radio, before moving to glance at each other.

In perfect sync, the officer behind the wheel started the engine, turned on their vehicle lights as he moved them into traffic while the other officer cupped the radio microphone in his hand, issuing the directive, "This is LV 79 at Mission and Divine, we are in pursuit of a department-issued vehicle with lights running…please advise as to its destination…"


	36. Chapter 36

A/N: Some will say this ends in a cliffhanger, although I don't really feel that way…but at this late hour as the rest of the family sleeps, it is alas as far as I can go tonight…I hope this leaves you in a good place, as I am sure to be away from the computer until late in the weekend…hope this pleases…all mistakes are mine…wishing you and yours a safe and fabulous New Year's Eve…and best wishes for another new and terrific year including some juicy new chapters of your favorite fanfics… -Kathy

----------------

Awaiting a fax from Catherine containing the rest of the information needed to swear out a warrant for Terri Miller, Jim Brass sighed as his cell beeped with a call from dispatch.

At first planning to ignore the aggravating ring, the insistence of the tone caused him to click on the response button and bark, "Brass."

In a delayed second, he was on his feet and already moving towards the door.

"What's their location? I'm on my way. Tell them to locate that Denali and send me their 20, but under no circumstances - I repeat, _no circumstances_ - are they to engage the CSI until I arrive on scene."

Cursing under his breath, Brass was now halfway to the exit before Warrick could catch up with him.

"Brass? Is it Sara?" Ric spoke, his long legs now in even pace with the rushing of the captain's shorter stride.

A sideways glance told of Jim's fury – and desperation.

"It's Grissom," was all he could say as he rounded his cruiser and pulled out with lights flashing before Warrick had completely secured his seatbelt.

"Hey, Nick's waiting for Cath's fax," the CSI began, hoping to calm the situation and ascertain exactly what had happened.

"Yeah, well, looks like we have bigger problems right now. Grissom's speeding out of the city – my guess is he's heading towards home."

Warrick seemed to be having trouble connecting the dots, but remained silent as Brass clicked on his two-way, hoping his eavesdropping would supply some answers.

"This is Capt. Brass. What's the current 20 on those officers in pursuit?"

A heavy sigh forced its way from his tightened lips as the response confirmed his worst fears.

"Okay, I'm about 15 minutes out. Pull up the location for CSI Grissom's residence and send it to those officers. Tell them to sit tight and keep surveillance on the residence. No action unless I'm notified first. Got that?"

Returning the mic to the console, Brass had almost forgotten Warrick was seated alongside him.

"Stupid bastard. What the hell does he think he's doing?"

"Brass," Ric prompted, not liking at all where his current deductions were leading him, "does Griss think he knows where Sara is?"

"I'm wondering if he's thinking at all," was the cryptic reply, as Brass flicked on the cruiser's sirens.

----------------

Unaware of the cruiser almost half a mile behind him, Gil's stomach fell as he noticed Sofia's car parked on the street outside the townhouse.

_Sofia would have parked in the garage unless-_

Grissom ran from his hastily parked vehicle and peered inside the attached single car garage's windows.

_County van, has low loading ramps…would have been easy to transport a wheelchair…_

Somehow, Gil found himself on the porch of his townhouse and from somewhere calm deep inside himself he watched his hand locate the key to the front door.

Without conscious thought to his actions, he inserted the key and opened the door, noting somewhere in his distraction that the deadbolt had not been fastened.

_Sara always insisted on the door being secured, if she was able to she would have checked that the deadbolt was fastened._

His face glistened with sweat as his hands shook ever so slightly in fear of what he would find when he entered what he used to consider his haven from death.

_Would he find that the insanity he faced during every shift had now not only infiltrated his home, but had taken away the one person he loved more than his own life?_

Hand still on the inside doorknob, Grissom froze at the sight before him.

Protruding into the walking space from the kitchen to the living room, a pair of legs clad in fitted khakis lay motionless in an odd angle.

The smell of fresh gunpowder tickled his sensitive nose, causing him to mutely open his mouth as he shook his head slightly.

His eyes continued their practice view of the scene, locking on a somewhat dazed Terri Miller standing over the body, gun still in hand.

She had been standing there some fifteen minutes, almost totally separated from reality.

In her mind, she was convinced that she had rid herself of a dangerous threat to her survival – to the life with Grissom that was mutually desired .

As the kitchen clock ticked softly, the minutes had melded into a macabre daze whereby Terri was convinced that Gil would come home, sweep her off her feet, and thank her for getting rid of the two women who stood in the way of their happiness.

As he stood silently gripped by the horror of the scene before him, Terri finally turned to him with narrowing eyes as if she wondered if he were truly there.

"Terri-"

The words barely made it from his mouth as he tried to take in the really horrific possibility that he was looking down upon Sara's dead body.

The pain was excruciating, he found himself unable to pull in enough air to sustain his quivering form.

Turning fully towards him now, Terri maintained her position close to the body as her hand closed tightly over the grip of the gun still pointed towards the stilled form lying on the cold tile beside her.

It seemed as if she were waiting for him to decide his next move.

His mind was reeling.

Gil wanted to rush towards her, knock her away from the body – oh, god…the _body!_

His experience told him that the unnatural way the shoes pointed away from each other displayed the loss of muscle control that was usually an indicator that death had occurred.

His eyes were riveted to those feet, those shoes…_those shoes…_

_I've never seen Sara wear short fashion boots like those ..she prefers running shoes for comfort and support with all the long hours and double shifts she often pulls…_

His eyes locked on those still feet before him, his mind swirling as he tried to recall where he'd seen those shoes before.

Gil inhaled sharply at the image of Sofia walking smartly away from him, those boots clacking to her seductive swing.

His eyes closed against the horror of recognition, yet his pulse raced at the slim hope that Sara was still alive.

Opening his eyelids, his fury became focused on discerning Sara's whereabouts.

He wanted to tear across the short distance that separated him from this murdering witch.

He wanted to slam her bodily against the wall and grind a confession from her as she gasped for breath.

He wanted to hurt her for the pain she had inflicted and continued to inflict on their lives…

He wanted to kill Terri Miller for what she had done to his Sara.

Moving towards her slowly, his mind screamed at him to approach the situation logically, gain Terri's confidence, disarm her calmly, learn about Sara…keep his emotions in check.

_He'd watch Sara diffuse tense situations with her soft, conversational style._

_She'd always been successful at keeping the upper hand, and although he'd often gone off on her so many times afterwards she would steadfastly reply in her teasing fashion, _

"_You catch more flies with honey. I would think _you _could understand that better than anyone, Grissom."_

Gil ached to hear that voice, see that teasing smirk, reach out and touch her one more time.

With that mission firmly before him, he surprised even himself a bit when he moved to grab hold of Terri, pulling her rather rigid form into his artificially comforting arms.

"Terri…thank god…are you alright, honey?"

The words dripped like honey from his lips, and he closed his eyes against the pain of going through with this farce.

After a long moment, Terri raised her arms to encircle Grissom in a tight hug.

This was everything she had ever dreamed it would be.

His hands played with the ends of her hair lightly, and it took every ounce of strength not to grip it painfully and make her disclose Sara's whereabouts.

"Are you alright?" he gulped heavily, keeping her close to him to avoid having her see the negative effect her proximity was having on him.

Terri took his emotional state as an indication of his feelings for her, after all everyone knew Gil Grissom to be an honorable man.

"Yes…yes, of course, darling…I'm fine…just _fine_ now…" Terri purred happily, her long months of planning and executing the plan finally having secured her prize.

Steeling himself, Grissom was about to speak again when his surgically-repaired hearing caught the briefest sound from the master bedroom.

Hope surged in his heart, despite the fear of what he'd actually discover there.

_I hope that is Sara…I need to buy her some time….forgive me, honey…_

And before another second went by, Gil released Terri enough to face her and pull her into a heart-stopping kiss.

He moaned a bit, in part to make the act believable but also to mask any additional sounds that might be coming from the bedroom.

Pulling away, his first reaction was to release the bile that threatened to spill over.

Instead, he held Terri tightly to his chest in an apparently amorous action while his hand soothed her hair over her exposed ear.

The movement would allow her to hear his voice while acting as a filter to any additional sounds in the deadly silent townhouse.

His ministrations had caused a shift in their positions, giving Gil his first heartbreaking look at Sofia's motionless body.

"Did she hurt you, honey?" Gil asked softly, his worry for Sara now his total focus.

Terri sniffed in reaction to his comfort.

"She…she was drinking…oh, Gil, she said some dreadful things…" she began, snuggling against him as he had now turned them away from the body.

Her movement allowed him to step forward a bit towards the front door.

"Shhh…it's alright…it's alright, honey…I'm here now…" Gil continued to speak in low tones, emphasizing the intimacy of the moment.

Another step forward and his hands were now massaging her upper back.

When one hand reached her neck, he was struck with the thought of how easily he could grip her pressure point and cause her to lose consciousness.

The idea at once tantalized and horrified him.

He had always thought himself above such actions.

But here, now, with Sara's safety in the balance, Gil realized that such an action was not out of the realm of possibility.

Inhaling deeply, Grissom pulled back to look at the face of this woman who had masterminded such evil and inflicted so much pain into their lives.

Terri's smile was so genuine, yet her eyes seemed conflicted – as if she were waging some internal war.

The need to remove her from the premise was paramount in his mind.

He needed to get Terri as far away from Sara as possible, despite the fact that she bordered on the brink of sanity and still possessed her handgun.

His past dealings with suspects had taught him patience in attempting to disarm a person.

Gil only hoped his patience would not wear thin.

"Honey, listen to me," he tried to smile, hoping in her current state that she would buy into his deception.

The look of adoration he found in her eyes both repelled and annoyed him, yet he kept his feelings locked away.

"We have to get you away from here. We can go away, right now, just the two of us. I'm parked right outside."

He felt her stiffen in his embrace, and for a moment he worried that she would become combative.

Silently asking for Sara's forgiveness, Gil plunged forward and kissed Terri like there was no tomorrow.

Because he was damn well certain there _would_ be no tomorrow for this sham of a tryst.

And if he soon discovered that Sara had been taken away from him forever, he could _guarantee_ that Terri Miller had lived her last day on this earth.

The kiss had its intended effect, leaving her dazed and willing to do just about anything he asked.

With conscious thought, Gil swooped her long frame into his arms and flung the front door open, passing them both through the threshold without a glance backwards.

He hoped to get Terri away from this crime scene and alert Brass to come and check the townhouse, hopefully finding Sara still alive.

Gil made it halfway down the sidewalk when suddenly he heard the screech of tires stopping across the street.

Once her attention was distracted away from Gil, Terri seemed to wake from her fairytale – only to be smacked with the bitter truth of her current situation.

Grissom was lowering her to the ground as Brass leaped from his vehicle shouting, "Las Vegas Police! Put the gun down and step away from each other!"

Terri turned towards a stunned Grissom and somehow ascertained that he was as shocked as she was.

Her heart swelled with happiness that he was not in on some dastardly plot to rid himself of her.

_Gil Grissom… my Gil…really wants to be with me!_

Seeing her chance for happiness thwarted by this single police captain, Terri's tortured mind felt the odds of taking out this final obstacle to happiness were in her favor.

"Don't worry, Gil. This bastard won't keep us from being together," she muttered softly, and he found himself unable to react quickly enough to her words.

It happened almost in slow motion.

Gil raised his hand to protest her actions as Terri planted her feet and assumed a shooting stance.

Brass raised his weapon just as Gil wrenched his neck to glare at his friend not to shoot, still slightly unsure of Sara's whereabouts.

Then Grissom found himself in a state of confusion.

Brass had caught his eye, and Gil was sure he had not fired.

Yet, at that moment, the sound of gunfire erupted so close to him that Grissom was sure he'd suffered some degree of hearing loss.

His body refused to move other than to follow the vision of Terri's face just inches from his.

Her features registered first surprise, then utter pain as her body slumped over.

There seemed to be no sound, just the clank of her gun falling to the sidewalk below before her body followed suit.

Grissom just stood there as the officers who initially responded left their vehicle parked across from the Denali which partially obstructed their position.

He stood unmoving as the officers initially trained their guns on him before hearing Brass' order to stand down.

In another heartbeat, Gil found himself face-to-face with Warrick and Brass, the older man's hand gripping his friend's upper arm.

"Gil? GIL!"

Grissom could see Brass' mouth moving, but whether it was the aftermath of the shooting at such close range, or the shock of the events, he found himself temporarily unable to hear more than a muted rustle.

Warrick moved into his line of sight.

"Griss," he spoke slowly, moving his mouth clearly, "what about Sara?"

Gil reacted as if he had momentarily forgotten why he had come here.

He wanted to run back into the house.

He wanted to be the one to find her, to comfort her, to hold her.

But with the shock of Terri Miller dead at his feet, crumpled in similar fashion to Sofia's lifeless form, Grissom suddenly found himself unable to bear the thought of uncovering one last dead body.

For surely _this_ discovery would be the one from which he'd never recover.

"Bedroom," he managed to eek out before the world began to swim, and blessed darkness overcame him .


	37. Chapter 37

A/N: These two are winding down their tale…posting on the fly so all mistakes are mine…thanks for the terrific reviews and reader interest…hope this pleases... –Kathy

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Catherine breezed through the hospital doorways with anxious steps.

The DA's office chartered a private plane which they insisted she use to get back to Vegas once the full situation was revealed to her.

Stopping at the information desk, her demeanor threatened bodily harm to the receptionist as she thrust her ID forward demanding to know the room location of her colleague.

Not trusting her patience with the elevators, Catherine made short work of the stairway to the third floor before flinging open the heavy fire door and making an entrance worthy of the Queen herself.

Nearly colliding with an orderly wheeling a cart of fresh linen to the supply closet, her steely gaze made the college student stand at attention; the motherly instinct kicked in as she stopped to pat his shoulder and mutter a brief apology for startling him.

Her eyes landed on his only briefly as her peripheral vision spotting the numbering markers for the floor's patient rooms.

Without waiting for a response from the young man, she whirled in her intended direction with boot heels clacking softly in determined stride.

She paused just outside the partially opened door, her heart sinking at the sight before her.

In the six hours since their phone conference was interrupted by Brass' quick departure, all kinds of images had worried her.

Catherine could not have conjured up this pathetic scene before her.

He lay still, IV drips pouring fluids and unknown medications into his system.

His head was wrapped in white gauze bandages covering the back half of his head, both ears shielded from sight.

His eyes were closed but not clamped tight, suggesting a restful – probably drug-induced – sleep.

Beside him sat his old friend Jim Brass, eyes solemn as his chair twisted slightly to allow a clear view of the doorway.

Yet his face was grim as his body language screamed worry at the figure lying under the crisp cotton sheets.

The CSI continued to survey the scene with diligence, and her immediate impressions weren't favorable.

She noticed Jim's eyes were looking as if unseeing – their focus acutely aimed at another time and place.

Moving slightly into the room, her shadow brought a measured response from the seasoned detective, and it did not escape her notice that his hand flew from his lap to immediately rest on his service revolver.

Placing her hands up in mock surrender, Catherine smiled and said, "I come in peace."

Chuckling self-consciously, Brass stood and moved to the foot of Grissom's bed.

He looked a moment into Catherine's weary smile, and caught her off-guard as he pulled her into a tight embrace.

After a quick moment of contact, Jim pulled away and Catherine could see the comforted difference in his stance.

Looking towards Gil unmoving in this dimly lit room, the pair stood in the bright light of the hallway.

Their presence caused the patient to rise to an almost full level of consciousness.

The glare made it easy for an awakening Grissom to easily see them the short distance from his hospital bed without the benefit of his reading glasses.

He felt odd.

His arms felt like lead, yet his head buzzed with a hum so much more irritating than the tinnitus that plagued him for weeks after the surgery.

His head felt warm, like it did in the aftermath of –

Gil's breath hitched.

_My head…wrapped in gauze…_

He strained a bit to the side to feel the pressure of the cotton support over his left ear preventing him from fully turning his head in that direction.

_I. Can't. Hear._

His heart beat increased, yet the sedatives were keeping him from moving.

His shock at his situation prevented him from making a sound.

His eyes opened more fully, desperate to get more information.

That's when he first noticed Jim's lips moving: …_Sara…_

Gil wished Brass would stand still and not be so animated in his speech; it was hard enough concentrating on moving lips, but when the speaker's head turned often –

Catherine was shaking her head, wiping her hands across her face which hid her lips from his sight.

Jim shrugged, sighed, and turned away from him as he spoke while Catherine just kept shaking her head.

Brass turned slightly towards Catherine now as Gil watched his shoulders rise on the deep inhale.

More turning movements as Gil's frustration mounted his eyes narrowed.

He needed to know what was happening. Finally Jim turned in midsentence, just in time for Gil to read:

…_Al's with her…_

Gil found himself unable to take in a breath.

Brass' lips turned towards him again in midsentence.

…_wouldn't let anyone else touch her…_

His eyes seized closed.

_Ohgod, ohgod, ohgod, ohgod, ohgod…..please….no…_

_NO!_

"Nooo!"

Both figures moved towards the bed at the first strains of his moans.

"Griss-, …dammit!" growled Jim as he realized his message would not be understood at this time unless Gil opened his eyes.

His frustration caused Catherine to turn to him in confusion as he clenched his friend's shoulders in a vain attempt to get him to open his eyes.

"What's wrong? Is he in pain?" she asked worriedly.

Brass was already ringing for the nurse, the tone of his message was sharp and authorative.

Assured that the doctor had been called, Jim's focus returned to his friend as his voice changed into a softer plea.

"C'mon, man…just open your eyes…" he muttered.

The sedatives were playing havoc with Gil's reality, and he was unsure of just what he could believe as reality at this point.

Grissom's eyes were shut in an unconsciously protective mode.

His mind couldn't deal with the snippet of information seeing their conversation had implanted in his confused mind.

As they continued and failed to get Gil's attention, both friends were relieved to see Dr. Roth entering the room in a swift, yet controlled, pace.

Having been advised of the events that led to his hospitalization, the doctor smiled caringly at the two figures that flanked Gil's bedside.

"Could I ask you to step out for a moment? Shouldn't be too long," she spoke as she gestured to the hallway, her hand already claiming Gil's wrist as she bore down on his pulse point.

Brass was already moving when he bumped into Catherine's motionless body.

"I promise I will call you in as soon as I examine him…just a few moments," Dr. Roth continued, glad that her longtime patient had such concerned support.

Reluctantly, the duo stepped out of the shadowy room, blinking into the glare of the hallway.

A familiar voice drifted over them from elevator near the hallway's intersections.

"Is everything alright?" Al Robbins asked, moving as swiftly as possible towards Gil's room.

"Not sure," Brass said, his eyes trained on the closed door of the patient room.

"Who's in there with him?" the coroner asked again, nodding with satisfaction upon their answer.

"Karen is the best there is…she'll help him as much as she can," Al added, anxious to speak with her upon the conclusion of her examination.

Inside the room, Karen Roth frowned at the pace of Gil's racing heartbeat as she released his hand with a soft pat.

Pushing her hand into her large inner pocket, she pulled out a premeasured syringe filled with Valium and added it to Gil's IV before turning back towards him.

Even in his discomfort, Grissom recognized the feel of the practicioner's hand.

She had been with many patients whose hearing was diminished and had steeled herself to support but not coddle them into facing their current reality.

Yet, even her practiced eye blinked harshly at the pain in her patient's eyes as his lids opened to rest on hers.

Smiling and maintaining contact, Dr. Roth pulled her hands away to a comfortable distance before she began signing to Grissom.

//How are you feeling now?//

How was he feeling?

If he was to believe what Brass was saying, he had just lost his reason for living.

How was he feeling?

He wished his strength to return so he could trash this room in an uncharacteristic release of his deep-seated anger.

_Sara._

His eyes filled with unshed tears, making the doctor's signs a muddle of unrecognizable attempts to soothe him.

//Gil…the shooting happened too close to the repairs…the concussive effect of the bullet that grazed you…dislodged some minute bone fragments…//

Dr. Roth always felt the best approach was the direct approach, yet she was not met with the expected bravado from this patient.

His continued silence unnerved her.

Taking her left hand to hold his for comfort, she continued signing with her right hand.

//Both ears seem affected, although the left ear – the one with the most extensive surgical repair – seems have suffered the worst of it.//

When no response was coming, Karen Roth decided that her patient needed time to cope with this new information.

Smiling, she added,

//I've given you something to help you relax…get some sleep…try to stay calm…rest is the best thing for you right now…//

Grissom closed his eyes against the painful thoughts.

_Sara…seeing Sara once more…that would be the best thing for me right now…ohgod…she can't be dead...she can't be gone…I can't do this without her…_

The doctor squeezed his hand, wanting to reassure him that she would return to check on him later, but Grissom stubbornly refused to open his eyes.

The pain of dealing with his perceived reality threatened to break him.

With a final squeeze, she lifted his hand and flattened it open, then pressed her fingers onto his palm into the sign for "later", and left the room.

Sighing as she saw the distraught faces of Grissom's support network, Dr. Roth steeled herself to answer their questions.

Dr. Robbins stepped up to introduced himself, yet Karen shook hands warmly to assure him no introductions were necessary as Gil had mentioned his achievements many times when discussing work.

In fact, Karen added, she had suggested that Gil talk with the coroner for a second opinion on the initial surgery.

The two medical practitioners talked shop for a moment, and Catherine frowned at the intensity of Al's demeanor.

Upon assuring them she would check back on their patient later, she bid them farewell and moved towards the elevator, disappearing inside just as a familiar figure passed her in stepping tentatively out of the metal doors.

Brass was the first to see her, and moved towards her with such speed that the other two turned in surprise.

Catherine's eyebrows raised questioningly, and Al began to scowl before moving forward.

"WHAT are _you_ doing down here?" he admonished as he took hold of the rather shaky form.

"How is he?" she asked, thanking the two men as they gently led her jeans-clad form to the chair outside Grissom's room.

"Fine, fine…now what are you doing out of bed?" Robbins insisted, but Sara would not be deterred.

"I listened to them paging Dr. Roth…I heard the room number…" she spoke quietly, her own head bandaged to completely cover the left side of her head.

"She just left him," Brass began but was interrupted as Catherine added, "Al was just going to fill us in on what the prognosis was."

Sara smiled her thanks, knowing that the men would just try to spare her any worry.

Al shot Catherine a wicked glance, but she held his evil look and raised him a glare.

Sighing, he knelt down next to Sara to prevent her from having to crane her injured neck upwards.

"Gil has suffered a temporary loss of hearing in both ears," he said reaching out for Sara's hand as her eyes widened anxiously.

"Is it…will he…" the brunette faltered as the enormity of the situation engulfed her.

Looking at Jim before answering, the captain moved closer and pressed a reassuring hand onto Sara's shoulders as Al continued.

"It may be some time until we know for certain. Dr. Roth is the best, and she's-"

"…doing all she can…"Sara said softly as a tear trickled down her cheek.

"Yes…that's why it's important that _you_, young lady," Robbins spoke as he stood, "take my advice and get back into your room to rest. Gil has to focus on healing now…not on worrying about you."

Hoping to lighten the moment, Catherine spoke, "Heard you gave those ER doctors a headache or two, Sara…I see you haven't lost your touch!"

Both men smiled, but Sara looked unrepentant.

"I – I…" she breathed deeply, "I didn't ...I just didn't want anyone else to …touch-" she stopped, looking at Catherine's sympathetic face.

"Well, after all you've been through, girl, I'd say it's _about_ time you got to do things your way," the older CSI smiled comfortingly.

"And I am delighted to have a patient who actually _can_ request my services by name," Al continued, and they all smiled at the coroner's insider joke.

A short pause. Then,

"Can I see him?"

The request was so heartfelt, Jim thought he'd move mountains to make the wish come true.

Al was a bit sterner.

"You promise to see him for just a few minutes, then you'll rest, Sara? I'm not joking about your body's need for recuperative sleep."

Sara shook her head softly, her eyes taking on a far-off glaze.

"I don't sleep. I close my eyes, and I can still see them…still feel them-" she quivered as her emotions were rising.

Brass stepped in and placed an arm around her shoulders to help her stand.

"Don't think about that, doll. It's over. They can't hurt you again."

Yet these seasoned professionals were well aware of the power of memory from their own personal experiences of job-related horrors.

Sara looked into Jim's eyes, and he shook internally at how small and broken she seemed.

He was glad the ER doctor had remembered Sara from her earlier admittance, and had volunteered to call the lab and request Dr. Robbins' presence if that would soothe his patient's near-panic at being brought in by flustered EMTs who viewed Sara as a combative rescue victim.

Brass lost that thought as he felt Sara moving forward unsteadily from his grasp.

Turning to move with her, he glanced solemnly at Doc before moving to push open the door.

The shadowed room was comforting to her, yet she wondered if it really was the shadows or the fact that she could sense her love so close by.

Jim moved the chair over closer to the head of the bed and helped situate Sara comfortably.

Except for the IV protruding from his hand, Gil now looked to be resting peacefully.

Sara took in ever facial crease, every strand of hair, every rise and fall of his chest.

He was here.

He was safe.

And she loved him.

Tears fell unbidden at the sight of this man who suffered so at her behalf.

_Nick had told her as he raised her into his arms and brought her out to Grissom's couch that Gil had found her._

_Somewhere in her drug-induced stupor she reached out for him, but panicked when she realized Gil wasn't with them._

_The ride to the hospital was an unwelcomed collage of sights and sounds that were disparate and frightening as the illegal drugs Terri had given her were wearing off, leaving Sara unsure of what was real and what was imagined._

However now, as Sara reached out to Gil's hand, she smiled at the slight reaction she spotted when she pulled his hand into both of hers.

After a moment of silence, she smiled again as his head turned lazily in her direction although his eyes were still shrouded in sleep.

Knowing he was unable to hear her, Sara flattened his hand and maneuvered her middle finger downwards before pressing the signed gesture firmly into his palm.

Remembering the little sign language she had picked up from her secret attempt to learn some conversational signing in response to her inadvertently finding out about Grissom's surgery a while back, Sara now let her fingers say what her heart was screaming.

// I love you.//

Her gaze took in the rightness of her hand in his as she held her fingers in place while soothing his knuckles with her other hand in a reassuring gesture.

Suddenly, Sara was surprised to find Gil increasing the pressure on her slender fingers.

Looking up in awe, her eyes were drawn in to the most beautiful set of baby blues this side of heaven.

His eyelids were only partially opened, but they were certainly what Sara needed to see at this moment.

She wanted to stroke his face, but his grip remained firm.

"Sara," he whispered on a breath, causing her to smile.

She tried to move, yet he held her prisoner in his grasp.

"Sara," his breath hitched, and she was dumbfounded to find his eyes brimming with emotion.

She moved her head slightly, taking in the bandages and the sight of him overwhelmed with the sight of her.

"I'm here," she spoke clearly into his eyes, noticing the tears spilling forth.

"Don't leave me," he whispered loudly, unaware of the sound of his own voice.

Sara sent him one of the special smiles reserved just for him, wincing as temporary stitching in her cheek began to throb at the motion.

Her distress brought Gil out of his reverie, and his hand clenched hers tighter while the other hand moved towards her bandages.

His eyes snapped to hers just as he made contact with the gauze.

She thought he looked like he was trying to rouse himself from a dream.

Patiently, she sat and allowed his digits to explore her eye, hair, ear, cheek, mouth – whatever was not hidden behind the protective gauze.

Gil's eyes widened as if he was truly seeing her for the first time.

"Sara!"

He tried to sit up, only to be forced down by a wave of vertigo.

"Gil! Gil!" Sara spoke urgently before remembering he couldn't hear her calling.

Though he hadn't released her hand, it was obvious he was in some sort of emotional and physical distress.

Looking around the darkened room, Sara thought about calling the nurse, or maybe Doc.

Tearing her eyes back to his pained expression, she was becoming confused herself as she started to feel overwhelmed with fatigue.

_What could she do to help him in this situation, when she needed to take care of herself?_

While she was beginning to hurt due to the fact that she had refused the pain killers that Doc Robbins had wanted to prescribe for her, Sara reached a decision.

Standing slowly, Sara released herself delicately from Gil's grasp.

His eyes flew open anxiously, worried that this was just a dream and that this mirage would disappear.

Making a shooing motion with her hands, Gil obeyed and slid sideways slowly to allow enough room for Sara's slight frame to lay beside him.

Wordlessly, she sat and twisted her good side onto the bed, pulling up her feet to lay prone next to him.

Gil now understood her plan and raised his free arm feebly to nestle her close to his chest.

"I love you, Sara," he spoke in a tinny-sounding voice, unable to do more than close his arm over her to encase her in his loving embrace.

Sara could not bring her eyes to remain open, so she simply snuggled carefully against him – causing them both to sigh in unison.

In the hallway, Al was pacing.

"She's been in there about ten minutes. Think she'd settle for that visit as enough for now, if I promise to bring her back later?"

Brass and Catherine just looked at him in response.

"She needs her rest," Doc said worriedly as he squared his shoulders and prepared to enter the room and do battle.

The door swung open, and the scene before him caused him to stop short.

Snuggled into each other on the small hospital bed, both patients leaned into the other as they both inhaled then exhaled softly.

Smiling broadly, Doc moved silently so as not to disturb Sara, reaching the bed only to grab the extra blanket from the windowsill.

He covered her in the lightest motion, but she never stirred.

Al Robbins' grin deepened at the soft smile that graced Sara's weary lips.

Perhaps this story would have a happy ending after all.


	38. Chapter 38

A/N: Well, these two have decided to wrap up this story…I know this chapter will shock some readers, but as I've always said these two often take their tale in a direction I had never intended…the last chapter will be posted shortly as I am working on it now, home for a sick day…the usual thanks for being so supportive in reading and reviewing apply…this one had me tearful near the end…prepare for one last wild ride…more soon… -Kathy

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_Three months later…_

He had been sitting here for over three hours.

The sun was setting behind the draperies which had remained closed in the comfortable living room.

The only light shining in the dimness was the answer machine's red message alert.

Gil continued to stare at it solemnly, his eyes removed from it only when they settled on the amber liquid swirling in the lead crystal tumbler clutching tightly in his hand.

Taking another stiff drink, his thoughts were beginning to muddle as the Scotch created its special magic.

Looking down into the depths of the glass he wished would swallow him whole, Grissom licked his lips and spoke quietly,

"At least I can still count on you."

He continued to clutch the glass emotionally, perhaps fearing that in releasing it he would lose his tenuous grasp on his sanity.

_What to do? What to do?_

His eyes closed and reopened with a sharper focus on the damned blinking light.

Having moved the machine to the end table next to him, Gil clumsily reached over the sofa arm and hit the button to replay the words that had set the world as he knew it into a freefall.

The sound traveled to him as if through a distant tunnel, but the caller's message created an image that was undeniably crystal clear:

"Sara? It's Gabe…I know this number was for emergencies only, but…I tried your cell several times…listen, just call me, okay?...Let me know you're alright?...I didn't like the way you left here...just…remember, your promise okay?...tell him, Sar…it's time to move forward with your life…I- uh…(sigh)…okay…just call me…"

With that the line went dead, and Grissom fell back as if he were following suit.

His heart hammered in his chest as his head fell back heavily on the overstuffed upholstery.

Taking one more gulp of the liquid, the sting of the swallow made him grimace.

Suddenly, his anger flared and he tossed the crystal with such force that it smashed against the hearth of the gas fireplace across from him.

The uncharacteristic release of his emotions caused the welled-up pain to surge forth, and despite his protests the tears began their unrelenting cascade inside the palms of his hands pressed firmly against his face.

"Sara."

The sound of her name caused his shoulders to shake.

_Sara._

_Oh, god, no._

_My Sara. _

_In love with another man._

_A younger man, no doubt._

_Someone with good looks, money, all the things she deserved to have a bright future._

_No doubt, everything Gil Grissom was not._

On a heave, sobs tore through his shattered frame as he shook his head in self-loathing.

_If only…_

_Oh, Sara…_

Wiping his face unsteadily on his sleeve, Gil leaned back to catch his breath.

Attempting to inhale deeply, his body shook with the effort.

_The worst part is…I never saw this coming…_

He leaned back and closed his eyes, his brain influenced by the half bottle of Scotch consumed since he had returned to the house this afternoon, anxious to share his incredibly good news with Sara.

_Sara._

Her name sparked images of their last three months together, having survived the incredible ordeal that seemed a lifetime ago…

_The first month had been marked with his lengthy hospital stay. _

Sara had been so attentive, so supportive…

_His mind replayed the endless days and nights she had cuddled close to him on that hospital bed._

_The news of his deafness, the insecurity of the dubious prognosis, the loss of his ability to work at CSI, his decimated plans for a happily-ever-after life with Sara – had caused his depression to move in swiftly and had held him strongly within its depths._

_It was as if she understood his need to remain in need of contact to reassure him of her love._

She did love me…perhaps I was just too needy….

_After his surgery, he remembered days when she would just sit and hold his hand as the drugs pulled him in and out of awareness._

_Dr. Roth had kept him slightly sedated for a few days to ensure minimum movement and increase the chances for the operation's partial success._

_Often, Sara would place his open palm on her cheek as she spoke softly._

_He recalled the relief he experienced just "feeling" the sound of her voice, knowing that she was sending loving messages of encouragement his way…_

Returning to the present, his hand swatted the answering machine again as he tortured himself into listening to the message for the tenth time this afternoon.

"…_tell him, Sara…it's time to move forward with your life…"_

Gil grimaced slightly.

"I always thought we'd move forward together, honey…"

His head drooped sadly, and after finally looking up again he spied his prescription bottles lined up on the breakfast nook counter.

With a mirthless chuckle, Gil raked his fingers through his hair as he spit out, "Guess I was just a little too broken for you to stay with forever…."

Oh, he didn't blame her.

God knows he loved her for so long and let chance after chance slip through his fingers.

Now that they had survived their ordeal, he had yet to make love to her in the manner he had always desired, and she had always deserved.

Thoughts of her attackers rose uninvited into the equation of his anger, and not for the first time since they'd returned home had his desire for revenge battled to the forefront.

"They'd taken so much from us…she was so broken –" he recalled as he thought about the second month after the situation was resolved.

_Once they had returned home from the hospital, Gil insisted that Sara come and live with him on a permanent basis._

Despite his morose, a small smile cracked the corner of his lips.

_He remembered her smile as they opened the door of the small frame house he had his realtor rent with an option to buy._

"_Oh, Gil!" she had all but squealed, and he would have to admit that her smile helped begin to lift the fog of the depression he had been battling for the last four weeks._

_It was the first time since the incident began all those months ago that Gil had seen a glimpse of the old Sara, and fell more deeply in love with this wonderful woman._

_She had flung herself into his arms and they stood together over the threshold of their future._

Had that happy day really been only two months ago?

_He recalled getting ready for bed that night, tugging on Sara's hand trying in vain to persuade her to join him in the whirlpool tub._

_He could tell she wanted to be with him, yet when his grasp on her arm firmed tighter, her voice suddenly raised sharply._

_Hearing her distress, Gil immediately released her hand and moved towards her._

_His intention had been to comfort her, but Sara interpreted his movements differently and raised her hands defensively, whispering, "Please! Please, don't!"_

_Horrified, Grissom stopped and shook his head, trying to calm his racing heart._

"_Sara! Honey, I'd never…" he closed his eyes before continuing, "Sara…you can trust me, honey…"_

_With a small sob, she rushed him and he rubbed her back softly until they both calmed down._

"_You'll let me know when you're ready, Sara. Don't worry, honey. You're okay…"_

_Pulling away from her slightly, he looked down into her watery depths and smiled, "We're okay, honey. "_

_Another hug and then he had disappeared into their large private bath, closing the door quietly behind him…_

His eyes now flew open as he recalled coming back into the bedroom after that encounter only to find it empty.

His breathing slowed slightly as he recalled finding her in the kitchen, closing her cell phone as she turned away from him.

Examining that tidbit of memory, Gil began to treat his other memories as evidence.

_People lie, but the evidence never lies…_

Leaning forward now, his head swaying slightly as the effects of the liquor were increasing, Grissom thought more of the days and weeks following that night.

_My head was still bandaged, and in effect I was still deaf._

_Sara and I had taken to carrying our cell phones and setting mine on vibrate so that we could communicate easily from anywhere in the house._

Gil cursed himself for how self-absorbed he had been at this time period, wondering aloud if his introspection was what caused Sara to seek a life away from him.

_There would be hours when they would just sit silently and enjoy reading together snuggled on the couch, Sara always being sure to keep him propped up against her chest as he rested his body between her legs._

_She would always stroke his shoulders in an absent motion as she became engrossed in a novel, or an article on a new forensic technique._

_She seemed happy, didn't she? Happy to be near him?_

_And he hadn't pushed her towards intimacy with him, even though bedtimes often found her with an excuse to finish "just one more" chore, or wanting to read "just one more" page before joining him._

_It had never crossed his mind that she was trying to find a way to tell him she was leaving._

_He recalled one night that he had just gotten settled when he realized he had forgotten to take his medication and crawled out of bed to head to the kitchen._

_Still unable to hear, he assumed Sara could hear him coming down the hallway._

_Instead, he apparently had startled her as she stood near the front bay window with the cell phone clasped tightly in her hand._

_He moved towards her to apologize for startling her, only to see her quickly wiping a tear from her cheek as she slid the phone closed and into her pocket._

Gil had never questioned her about the phone call, hoping she would feel safe enough to discuss anything important with him.

And selfish prick that he was, he just ignored yet another blatant sign that she was feeling trapped and he was failing to give her what she needed.

Gil cursed himself.

What a bastard I am…no wonder she sought comfort somewhere else…

_That night, she had followed him to the bedroom and dressed in a tank top and shorts, surprising him by seeking the comfort of his embrace as he rubbed her back silently._

_He could feel her mouth moving in a halting motion, and the soft vibration of a few words tickle his bare chest, but she refused his attempt to raise her head to look at him._

_He could see she wanted to say something, but he wouldn't force her._

_He'd give her all the space she'd need._

_He could wrap himself around her and keep her safe._

_It's what he wanted._

_He thought it was all they _both _wanted._

Gil's eyes closed against his bidding as his exhaustion took control, and the terrifying sights immediately assaulted his psyche.

_In his dream, he saw Sara – vibrant, beautiful, full of life – wrapped around the naked torso of a man of indiscernible features, but with a body of an Adonis._

_In his dream, Sara turned to look directly at him, and in his sleep he gasped aloud at her beauty._

_Her hair was tossed as if she had just been thoroughly made love to, her lips were puffy with being overkissed, her breasts pert and pleading for lips to suckle them greedily…_

_He felt himself harden as if he were a lecher peering at an X-rated film in some backroom brothel._

_In his dream, she turned fully to him, spreading her legs invitingly as if to tease him with wanting what he could have had if he hadn't been so damaged._

_His fury ignited as he saw large masculine hands sliding over her exposed flesh and stop as they reached the sweetest area between her legs._

_At this point, he saw Sara's face turn from him and become hidden from view as her lover's mouth claimed her as his own._

_Wanting to claim her for himself, as in all nightmares Gil found himself unable to move, unable to utter a sound, trapped helplessly as he watched his Sara give herself again and again to this much younger lover._

_His torment was ripping apart his soul as he tried to call out to her, finally forcing a low moan to emit from his paralyzed lips._

"Sa-ra!"

The action forced his alcohol-deluded thoughts to awaken him, and he took several minutes to shake off the horror of seeing Sara taken from him.

Deep breathing helped return him from his dream state horror to the present, but one glance at the answering machine served as the reminder of today's living nightmare.

He moved slowly from the couch, and dismissed the sound that met him of his footsteps on the hardwood floors.

Earlier today, he had been surprised and excited.

_When Sara had nudged his shoulder to awaken him and tell him she was off to do some errands for a few hours as had become her custom, he had merely nodded when she kissed him softly and left the room._

_It wasn't until the heavy oak front door creaked loudly behind her that he realized dreamily that he would have to oil those hinges._

_A moment later, he sat up, stunned._

_He had heard the door close!_

_Trying to quell his rising excitement, Gil set off to discern if this had been a solitary event or a major breakthrough in his recuperation._

_He moved cautiously, but the evidence was proving very hopeful._

_Although the sounds were very muted and voices were not fully clear, the radio and TV broadcasts were discernible at elevated sound levels._

_Gil moved to grab his cell phone and call Sara, but he stopped._

_What if this was just a short-term reprieve?_

_He didn't want to get her hopes up._

_No, he'd call Dr. Roth and get a second opinion._

_Then he'd know for sure, and if her diagnosis was positive, he'd come home and tell Sara that they were finally able to move on with their life without having to face the adjustments to his deafness._

"Tell him, Sara…it's time to move on with your life…"

Those words continued to echo through his wounded soul as Gil gulped the bottle of chilled water from the fridge.

Leaning against the sink, he could almost see her standing her with her arms deep in soapy water as she rinse the last glass before tackling the pile of dishes from their last meal here.

_It was just last night, he had been helping to dry the dishes._

_They had been in a playful mood, and one thing led to another._

_He had moved close behind her, allowing his hands to fall from her shoulders where he'd placed them as they shared a laugh._

_His fingers now burned as he recalled the feel of her arms, elbows, and the soft intake of her breath as his digits fondled the area just under the hem of her tank top._

_She had pressed back slightly allowing him to explore this tiny area, and he had hardened immediately as he pressed her more firmly against him._

_Her head had fallen backwards, her hair moved away from her face where she had taken to wearing it these days to cover the healing skin scarred from the final successful attempts at repairing her injuries._

_Gil had thought her beautiful, but it seemed Sara had not only wished to hide her face from his view but her body as well._

_So many nights he had rolled over to kiss her softly as she slept, the only time she really relaxed as he moved towards her._

_Last night, Sara did not pull away but he couldn't miss the fact that she kept her hands submerged in the sink and he now wondered if she had been gripping the sides of the sink to keep her displeasure from being noticed._

_Had she given him "one last memory" to cling to before she would return home today and break his heart?_

_Last night, Gil had whispered his love into her ear, kissing her neck softly as he nipped his way over to her shoulder as his hands moved upwards._

_He had reached and caressed her breasts under the thin fabric of her tank top, and smiled as she moaned softly, vibrating against his chest._

_Recognizing the need to move slowly, he had stayed there for several minutes before turning her towards him and kissing her soundly._

_Her eyes had remained closed long after the kiss, and once again Gil took inventory of her lovely face – looking at the scarring was so second nature to him now that no longer noticed anything but the love for this remarkably courageous woman._

_When he looked back into her eyes, he was surprised by the sadness he noticed immediately in their depths._

_Thinking that she was worried about disappointing him, Gil pulled her to him softly and said in a tinny voice of those who cannot hear, "Why don't I finish up here, and you go take a shower. I'd like to sit up and read for awhile, hmm?"_

_Looking at him in a gaze that seemed almost grateful, Sara nodded and started to pull away from him before stopping at the doorway._

_Her lack of movement caught his eye, and before he could understand fully she was back in his arms, tightly hugging him and finally looking at him speaking slowly how she loved him, and how she wanted to say thank you - for everything._

Moving back towards the sofa, he sat back heavily as he thought to all the daytime hours they had spent apart in the last five weeks.

_Sara would dutifully drive him to the hospital, and he'd leave her for hours at a time either undergoing speech therapy, lip-reading classes, or physical therapy._

_He had never asked what she had done during that time, selfish bastard that he was._

_Had he really expected someone so vibrant, so lovely, so full of life to just sit around and wait for the doddering old fool while everywhere around her were the temptations of the young?_

Gil sighed.

It was always his biggest fear in letting Sara get close to him.

She exposed him to a world where she loved him…and just like Debbie Marlin, she was going to take it away from him.

Gil cursed himself for making that comparison.

Sara was certainly nothing like Debbie…Debbie had been cruel, selfish, and hedonistic.

Debbie had used men to get her kicks, disregarding the feelings of many of the men she bedded.

But his Sara was not like that.

In fact, as he sat here now in the darkness he could see clearly that she was having trouble in telling him that she needed to move on.

She was worried about him.

She loved him, there was not doubt in him mind about that.

She just…wasn't…_in_ love with him.

Gil sighed deeply and brought his hands to cover his face as he tried to scrub the misery away.

His heart felt dead as he began to imagine what this Gabe character was like.

_Did he treat her well? She deserved to have someone who would make her feel as special as she was._

_Did he give her his full attention? She never asked for much, but deserved the world at her feet._

_Did he tell her she was beautiful? She needed to hear it often, even though she didn't really believe it._

_Did he love her?_

This made Gil gasp on a sob.

_I_ love her.

Enough to let her be happy.

Another sob broke loose.

_I think I will die without her._

Just as his despair was hitting rock bottom, Grissom jerked his head up at the sound of their front door opening.


	39. Chapter 39

He was confused.

He had jumped when the door opened, watching Sara enter the house with shoulders slumped as if the worry of the world sat on them.

Illuminated by the streetlights behind her, Gil saw her investigator's instincts click into high gear, her head whipping around in the dark as her hands reached blindly for foyer's light switch.

"Ohgod, ohgod, let him be alright," he heard her panicked voice as she dropped her shopping bags onto the floor and her keys on the entryway table as she moved swiftly through the space.

Sara's shoe stepped fully onto the piece of broken crystal, and the sharp crunching sound made her stop abruptly and scan the trail of broken glass.

"Gil! Please, no…" her plaintive cry ceased upon her eyes trailing to his unmoving form seated on the sofa.

"Gil!" she cried as she launched herself towards him, first hugging him tightly, then pulling back to kiss his forehead, and finally to remove herself fully to cast a wary eye over him.

Her hand trailed over his beard, and unconsciously he let his head revel in what could be the last time he felt her lovely hand caress him in this manner.

"Oh, what have you done to yourself, honey," she continued to rattle, still assuming that he couldn't hear her.

Moving his chin forward, Sara shook Gil a bit to get his attention.

"Gil…Have. You. Been. Drinking?" she mouthed slowly, although his glazed over eyes and slightly scented exhales gave her the information she needed to know.

When all he did was nod silently, Sara was moved to tears – a reaction that puzzled him.

"I'm. So. Sorry." she kept repeating over and over, and in his wounded state, Gil drank in her concern as if she were an oasis to the desert existence of the last few hours.

He closed his eyes, having trouble reconciling her movements with his anguish.

Hadn't he just sat here expecting to find her gone from his life?

Why was she fussing so, if she were coming to say goodbye?

Was she feeling guilty for leaving him, or worse, feeling responsible for his actions?

Opening his eyes slightly, he found himself in a perfect hiding place to observe what was going on with this woman who he adored.

"Damned cell phone charger! Never have it when you need it! I knew the low battery light had come on this morning."

She looked worriedly in Gil's direction as she muttered, "He must have been trying to call me, he needed me…and where was I?" Sara continued to berate herself, and somewhere deep inside Grissom a seed of hope was being nurtured.

_Where were you indeed, Sara?_

It wasn't until Sara sat still that she spotted the machine blinking with one new message.

Frowning slightly, Sara moved to play the message, wondering who could have called this number as it was newly acquired with the house.

She knew the doctors all had their cell numbers and had used them often.

Reaching across him, Gil suddenly grabbed her into his embrace and pulled her away from the machine, ending her surprised protests with a heart-stopping kiss.

This time, he was the one who earned the surprise as Sara returned the kiss fully.

In fact, when Gil pulled back for air Sara followed him down until he was lying on his back with Sara on top of him.

Giddy with her proximity, Gil started to rake his hands over her back possessively, and when she pushed against him willingly he broke their liplock and gazed adoringly into her eyes.

Her hand cupped his face again and her brows knitted as she pondered what was going on behind those blue eyes that made her heart swell.

"I. Love. You." Sara spoke slowly and lowered her head to the comfort of his heartbeat pounding under her.

It struck Sara that something must have happened to frighten him in her absence.

She cursed herself for not coming home immediately from her appointment.

"I'm damned if I do, and if I don't," she spoke aloud, seeing how taking some personal initiative might have been the cause of Gil's behavior in her absence.

Sara might have felt him tense under her if her cell phone did not begin to chirp from the foyer table.

Rising quickly, she clenched Gil's hand tightly and smiled reassuringly towards him as she moved swiftly to answer the call, realizing the phone's battery was nearly depleted.

Moving towards the charger in the kitchen to plug in the device as she spoke afforded Gil with the opportunity to see as well as hear her conversation.

"Gabe – hi," she said warmly, and the pain returned instantly to Gil's heart.

"Message?" she inquired, looking towards the phone on the end table.

"Oh, no, I just walked in," she spoke, and then began shaking her head in disagreement over what was being said.

"No, it's fine…we just don't use it that much...Gil still needs to use text messages to communicate...most people call us on our cells," she continued, moving deftly around to start the coffee maker thinking Gil could use a cup as they talked.

After another moment, Sara sighed but then brightened.

"I agree…yes, I understood what you're saying, and you're right…it's time…we've been in this limbo too long…"

The rest of the words were lost on Grissom as he lay paralyzed with the fear of Sara abandoning him.

Taking a deep breath, Sara suddenly turned slightly away from Gil, causing him to strain to hear what would turn out to be the most important message of their relationship.

"Gabe…what if…sigh...I can't _help_ but worry…what if I try – really try – and still I find that I really can't go through with it…I can't imagine what I will do if Gil decides to leave me because I can't make love to him…"

It was as if a brick wall had fallen over him.

He was sure his struggle to breathe was caused by his heart fluttering in his chest.

His mind was racing wildly.

_Could he really have gotten the wrong message?_

He thought back through the evidence.

_His assurances to her that he would wait until she was ready._

_Her willingness to allow him closer to her in gradual steps._

_The phone message: "Tell him, Sara…"_

_She was trying to tell him she wanted to try...try to be intimate with him?_

He heard her gulp back a breath.

"Yes…I will, Gabe…yes, I know you're only a phone call away…and hey, Gabe?...thanks, for everything…you've really helped me more than you know…enjoy your dinner with Doc, and tell him to give my best to the gang…thanks…see you next week…"

With that, Sara closed her phone only to find herself suddenly being twisted into Gil's tight embrace.

"Sara," he breathed as he clung to her tightly, fighting back the tears.

"Gil? What's wrong, baby?" she tried to speak into his gaze, but he was kissing her with abandon and soon she found herself being swept off her feet.

Dizzy from his constant kisses, she allowed herself the comfort of his embrace as he continued to speak again and again of his love for her.

Finally pulling back, he stroked her cheek as she looked at his moist cheeks while he spoke.

"Sara," he breathed out, forcing himself to continue, "I love you. And if you…if we never fully consummate this relationship…I will still love you forever…just…just don't ever leave me."

Before she could speak, he had scooped her up into his arms and planted kisses anywhere on her face that he could reach as he moved them to the bedroom.

It wasn't until he was laying her atop the mattress that the impact of his words fully settled into her consciousness.

Pulling herself up as he sat beside her, she cradled his ears almost reverently before locking eyes with him.

"You – you can _hear_? You _heard _me?"

His smile was blooming even as he thought of how foolish he had been to think Sara had been leaving him for another man.

He could see for himself the primary evidence before him.

Her smile was broad and she was kissing him frantically as her questions peppered him with the how and why of his hearing's return.

But there would be time to have that conversation.

He was here with the woman of his dreams.

She was in bed. THEIR bed.

And as he moved forward to pin her to the softness of the mattress below them, his thoughts began to focus on the fact that they just may have too many clothes on….


End file.
